All the Waige
by ScorplinginTraining
Summary: This is just a place for mindless drabbles, plotless fluff and one-shots of gooey Waige goodness. I have to do something to occupy myself during the hiatus and now that: Waige. Is. Canon. Yay! I gave it a T rating to be safe.
1. What I've Learned from You

**AN: This a little bit of plotless fluff that was rattling around in my head. It's definitely rated K. Enjoy!**

 **WHAT I'VE LEARNED FROM YOU**

"I can keep you company for a while since you're awake. We need to let your mom get some rest until you're ready to eat. Then I'll take you to her."

"Your Uncle Toby says talking to you will help with your cognitive development, but I'm sure the way _he_ talks to you is eventually going to shave points _off_ your IQ if he isn't careful. Don't worry. I'm sure with my genetics you will have a few points to spare, and I won't babble at you or call you silly names like he does just in case."

"It's a good thing I find you exceptionally easy to talk to. You are probably the best listener I know. Your mom is a close second, but she does occasionally interrupt when I'm not being what she calls rational."

"Your mother is extremely special and I'm glad the other half of your genetics comes from her. Maybe you will grow up to be as kind and compassionate as she is. I'm hoping you don't derive your EQ from me, but if you do, she can help you develop that. She still helps me. And if she's able to help me, she would most likely be able to help anyone."

"Do you know what's odd? I knew there would be many things I'd like to teach you as you grow and are able to absorb them, but what I find interesting is how many things you have actually taught me in the short time I've known you."

"For instance, I never knew someone so small could make such a mess. Or so much noise. Or that your mother would find me cleaning up your messes or quieting your noise so compelling. But she seems to find it really attractive. Thank you for that."

"I also didn't know you would help your big brother make friends. But when he's around girls his age and he's holding you, they seem to flock to him. He appears to take advantage of that quite a bit when I drop him off at school. I think it's gone a long way to combat sibling rivalry, so it would be a good plan to do everything possible to continue appealing to fourteen year old girls."

"I didn't realize you would help me understand and connect with my own parents better either. I can see a few things from their perspective now. Megan was always my conduit to them before. Maybe you can be a new conduit to them."

"Your Aunt Megan would have been so thrilled to know you. You have dimples just like hers. I didn't know you would make me miss her in ways that never occurred to me before. Hard things happen in life, but you will learn having a place to feel safe and people to care about you make the bad things easier to handle. When you are older and can remember, I will tell you all about your Aunt Megan and I know you'll love her. You need to ask your Uncle Sly about her too. I think it would make him happy to tell you about her. She's the reason your Uncle Sly is officially my brother, you know."

"One thing that surprised me is how emotional you make your Aunt Happy. She was always great with your brother, but she is just sentimental and a little silly around you. I hate to say so, but I think your Uncle Toby has been a shockingly good influence on her in that regard. She is more open now than I can remember her being at any other time since I've known her. And she's just crazy about you. It won't be long before she gives you a 'cousin' to grow up with. I'm secretly thrilled with the idea. Don't tell Uncle Toby, but I think he's going to be a great dad."

"I think the most unexpected thing you helped me understand is just exactly how strong Cabe is. I can't even contemplate what he lost all those years ago. Yet he survived and was able to function. I'm not at all sure I would have that strength. He cried when you were born. I didn't understand, but your mother helped me see that you remind him of his own little girl. Now he wants to hold you all the time when he's around. I want to ask him to be your honorary grandfather since he's been a father figure to me. I'll ask your mom if she thinks that's appropriate. She's a genius about things like that."

"The most important thing you have taught me is that love is very real. I had no idea the depths I am capable of feeling until you and your mom and your brother came along. I still get scared of the power of it sometimes, but I would never want to go back to my life before any of you were a part of it."

It was three in the morning when Paige woke up. She wondered sleepily why her new baby girl hadn't woken for her usual middle of the night snack. She reached across the bed only to discover her husband was missing. Looking at the baby monitor, she realized it had been switched off. When she turned it back on again, she overheard Walter's 'conversation' with their daughter, and she fell headlong in love with him all over again.

Blinking back tears she blamed on hormones and sleep deprivation, Paige got up and slipped into a robe. She padded on bare feet across the hall, leaned one shoulder on the doorframe of the nursery and stared at the tableau in front of her. In the dim circle of the nightlight, her husband sat in the rocking chair holding their daughter who seemed to look back at him adoringly and as if she was paying rapt attention to his words.

A tiny fist swung up and hit him square in the nose and he grabbed it and kissed it saying, "There's no need for violence. Intelligent people use their wits, but you have good instincts. If a fight is necessary, always go for the nose. Cabe taught me that," and he grinned into her face goofily. She gave him a toothless smile in return.

Just then, Walter looked up and saw Paige. Still smiling, he said to his baby girl, "I guess it's time to eat now. We'll talk again soon."


	2. A Grave Error with A Happy Ending

**AN: I'm not sure what this is. I just had it in my head and felt the need to get it out of there. Tell me your thoughts...**

 **P.S. This little ficlet should probably have a 'T' rating.**

 **A GRAVE ERROR WITH A HAPPY ENDING**

"I thought you were dead."

Walter heard Paige say the words almost matter-of-factly. Her tone was soft and gave nothing away, but he could feel his pulse jumping.

"I was up here trying to figure out a way to tell my s-son," her voice caught. She swallowed once, then continued, "…you were gone. But I couldn't think of a way to say it. How could I say that out loud? He would be devastated."

Walter chanced a look in her direction. Paige sat huddled on the couch in the loft, knees drawn up to her chest. The pale, murky lamplight did nothing to hide her pallor.

"I'm sorry." The words were so inadequate, but he had nothing else to offer, "You weren't supposed to be watching."

"Does Toby know you aren't…you…"

"I saw him downstairs. I think he's heading to the camper to pass out now. He told me that he hacked into security at the docks. S-so I, uh, know what you saw, but it was all fake, a ruse to get me underwater and onto the boat so I could hard wire into their server."

Paige looked at him for the first time. Her eyes were anguished and his chest hurt just seeing it, so he trained his own eyes at the ground again. That was why he didn't see her get up and start toward him at first. When he heard her approaching, he braced himself for the slap he knew was coming. At least he was prepared this time.

But when she reached him, she hugged him tightly instead.

Walter stood frozen in place for a blink or two, then slid his arms around her. Damn it. She was trembling all over.

"Paige," he sighed, "You weren't supposed to see that."

"I saw you get shot, fall into the water and not come up," she choked out, her voice muffled against his shoulder, "What was I supposed to think?"

"I-I know. It had to appear that way, so they wouldn't look for me. I didn't know you and Toby were watching from here."

Paige pulled away and cradled his face in her hands. She was crying, her tears flowing unchecked.

"I'm so sorry, Paige," he murmured and touched his lips to hers briefly trying to offer comfort, or that's what he told himself.

But it seemed to ignite something in her because she kissed him back like she wanted to devour him. He couldn't think for a minute. Only feel.

"Wait. Wait, Paige?" Walter tried to pull away so he could ask…something. What was it..? But her lips found his again and he short-circuited for another minute, drowning in her kisses.

Gasping, he drew back and rested his forehead against hers. Walter had to ask her… "Tim. Is Tim coming back for you? What about Tahoe?"

Breathless and dazed, Paige shook her head then answered, "He's not coming back. It's not going to happen."

That was all Walter heard before Paige began ravaging his mouth with hers again.

He was lost. His head was spinning and his knees were threatening to give out. She abruptly broke away and, grabbing his hands, led him toward his bed.

Oh, boy.

Paige proceeded to ravish him completely. Surrounded by her, his mind shut down. He had no thought, only sensations, only reactions. Aware only of her and what she did to him, what she meant to him; his senses were full of her.

Walter felt her come apart around him and he followed her almost violently, her name erupting from somewhere deep inside him.

He lay there in pieces in the aftermath completely annihilated and fighting for breath. Things began to come together slowly. He first became conscious of Paige still lying on top of him. Her eyes were shut and she was as winded as he was.

When Walter recovered the power of speech, he said, "Um. What exactly was that?"

Paige was still for a minute before replying, "I think that was what Toby would call an 'affirmation of life'."

"I guess taking my pulse was out of the question?"

She started giggling and his laughter joined hers. Walter realized they were both still half dressed, but he was too pleasantly exhausted to care much.

He sobered and confessed, "That's never happened before." He folded one arm under his head so he could see her expression. His other arm he left draped across her back.

Paige propped her chin on a hand atop his chest and peered at him. "What's never happened?"

Walter rolled his eyes. "This. I've made a few attempts, but I was never able to…uh, f-finish with anyone else."

Her eyes snapped to his. She was riveted. "Really? Wow. That must be frustrating. Why not, do you think?"

For some reason, he felt comfortable opening up. Maybe because of the intimacy they just shared, he was already open. He trusted her, and Walter wasn't the least bit self-conscious when he answered, "You know I have trouble processing touch, so there was that issue. I was always uncomfortable. Then there's my brain. I couldn't block out my thoughts enough." He shrugged.

"Hmm," Paige hummed thoughtfully. He felt the vibrations and enjoyed her closeness. "Why do you think it worked with me?"

Smiling wryly, Walter said, "My best guess? Because I love you."

"What?!"

"Yes. I trust you. I have already become accustomed to and even enjoy touching you. Because I've formed an intense emotional connection to you, I was able to feel instead of think. That has only happened previously when I was doing something dangerous…"

"No. Go back. What did you say to me?"

"I love you? I would think it was pretty obvious."

She stared at him for a minute, "I thought…maybe. But I never thought it would _ever_ occur to you."

"I'm kind of a moron, but I got there eventually. I started to chase after you and Tim before Cabe called us back for this case. I wanted to tell you."

"Really? You did?" Paige looked incredulous.

"I'm guessing what happened with us means that you and Tim aren't, um, together?"

"Not even remotely. I wanted to want him. I really tried. But on the way back tonight I told him I wasn't ready. I just wasn't feeling it. I think he understood. Mostly. I had him drop me off at the garage because I needed to talk to you. I wanted to see if you would give me, this…um, us a chance."

"Well, I guess you have your answer?" They both chuckled.

"So, you aren't going to tell me this was a mistake? That it's bad for the team? Because if you do at this point, I think I might just shoot you for real."

"I've tried to bury these feelings and leave them alone. They only get stronger. I don't think I can suppress them forever and I don't really want to any more. Especially not now. A relationship may very well be destabilizing, but I think we will just have find solutions as problems arise," Walter said solemnly.

"Good plan," Paige said smiling, "Don't you want to know?"

"What?" Walter asked, baffled.

"If I love you too."

"I guess I assumed…since we, uh, you know…"

"How do you know I don't just, _you know_ , with a lot of people?"

Walter gave her a skeptical smirk and poked her in the side.

Paige giggled again then said, "I do. Love you. I just wanted to say it so there's no doubt."

"It feels good to hear it. Thank you."

"So, there's only one question left now," Paige said grinning playfully.

"Oh? And what is that?"

"Have you ever taken a shower with someone before?"

"No," Walter's answering smile was a bit naughty, "But I think I might be open to another new experience."


	3. Man to Man

**AN: I've always wondered what it would sound like for Walter to talk with Ralph about girls. This is my take on that so it's really more of a Walter/Ralph family story than a bunch of Waige, but Waige is established and implyed here. Hope you like it!**

 **This has a 'K' rating.**

 **MAN TO MAN**

"Hey, Walt," Ralph said as he walked into Walter's home workshop and dropped his backpack in the corner.

"Oh, hey, Ralph. I didn't hear you come in. Your class is over already?" Walter was elbows deep in his latest project. "Could you hand me those calipers?" He said pointing to the measuring device on the end of the work table.

"It's almost six," Ralph replied as he picked up the tool and handed it to the man who was more father than stepfather.

Walter looked up, surprised. His eyes were made exaggeratedly large by the safety goggles he wore giving him the look of an intelligent insect. "You're kidding. It's later than I thought. I'd better get started on dinner soon."

Ralph strapped on his own pair of goggles and jumped in, working in perfect tandem beside his favorite mentor. Neither spoke beyond simple requests for quite a while. They had always been able to work together as if reading each others' minds. The next time they looked up, it was nearly thirty minutes later.

"We'd better wrap this up for now," Walter said reluctantly, breaking the comfortable silence, "Dinner isn't making itself and your mother and sister will be home soon."

"Where are they?" Ralph asked as they both removed their safety gear and dropped it on the work bench.

"It's Thursday. Your mom took Ivy to her dance class."

"I guess that means we'll have to go to another recital soon?" The two males exchanged a pained expression.

"I guess so," Walter sighed. He clapped a hand to Ralph's shoulder and led him toward the door.

"I don't get it. Ivy shows every indication that she's a genius like we are and yet she still loves dress up and dance classes and make believe." Ralph's face contorted into a comical moue of aversion, "And she chatters. _I_ _ncessantly_." He shook his head as if these things should be completely outside the realm of possibility.

"Not all geniuses are contemplative and quiet like we are. You know that. I can't imagine Toby was an introspective child." They shared a knowing smirk, "And Ivy isn't quite four years old. She is still too young to test with any accuracy. Preliminary results show she is quite advanced for her age, but we won't know anything definitive until she is a bit older," Walter pointed out.

Ralph looked at him skeptically, "Walter, she's nearly fluent in three languages already. Speaking _and_ reading. She is well on her way to learning Japanese from Happy too. And she already solves simple trigonometry problems with Sly. For her birthday, she wants cupcakes decorated and fashioned into the periodic table. I'm pretty sure of the results we can expect from any future tests."

"But it's still only an assumption until it can be proven," Walter argued.

Ralph shrugged and dropped the subject. He knew Walter secretly hoped Ivy was a little more normal like Paige, but they could both tell she wasn't.

In the kitchen, they took out ingredients for a simple stir fry, and began assembling them together with as much easy camaraderie as they had tinkering in the workshop.

In the midst of chopping vegetables, Ralph looked sidelong at Walter and said, "Can I ask a favor?"

"Sure. What do you need?"

"Could I possibly get out of babysitting tomorrow night?"

Walter looked askance at his stepson. "What do you think your mom would say? I don't think she would go for that since you already agreed."

"Can't Happy and Toby or Sly or Cabe watch her?" Ralph begged with a slight whine, sounding remarkably like a typical teen.

"You volunteered, Ralph," Walter answered, confused, "I thought you wanted the money since you're saving for a new telescope. Besides you know tomorrow night is the trade show, so the whole team has to be there. Patrick is keeping Quinn for Happy and Toby so at least you won't have both of them. What's this really about?"

To his surprise, Ralph's face flushed scarlet.

"You know I have a physics project due on Monday, right?"

"Yes. But that should be a piece of cake for you. It's _high school_ physics."

"Well, it would be if I didn't have a lab partner. A _normal_ lab partner."

"So? Doesn't this person expect you to do the work for both of you?" It was the familiar lot of any genius.

"No. She wants to do her part. And she had to ask for time off at her job to work on it with me. The only evening she has free is tomorrow," Ralph looked at Walter pleadingly.

His stepdad made note of the pronoun _she_ and he was sympathetic, but he knew where Paige would stand on the matter. Considering briefly, he asked, "Do you think your lab partner would be willing to come over here to work? You could wait until Ivy goes to bed. By the time we get done and take everything down at the show, it will probably be quite late."

It wasn't an ideal suggestion and Ralph sighed still looking a bit dejected at the prospect of not having his lab partner to himself, "I don't know. I guess I could ask her."

Moving into uncharted territory and not wanting to pry, but sensing Ralph wanted to talk about it, Walter asked, "So, you _like_ this girl?" He made sure to focus on the task of measuring the rice to boil so he wouldn't seem confrontational.

"She's okay, I guess," Ralph mumbled in reply, shuffling his feet a bit and twirling a knife beside the cutting board.

Walter waited patiently knowing the teen had a hard time finding words sometimes. He was quite the expert on that himself.

"Thing is, I don't know how to tell," Ralph finally said, "How do you know?"

Chuckling softly, Walter replied, "I may not be the best person to ask. It took me thirty-two years to admit love is real and not a temporary, semi-euphoric reaction to chemicals released in the brain. I'm not sure I could identify the characteristics of a 'crush' any more readily."

"Any insight would be helpful," Ralph said sounding cautiously hopeful.

"Well… You obviously find her physically appealing?" Both were a bit uncomfortable with the conversation, so they stood side by side leaning on the counter and looking in different directions.

"Uh-huh."

"Does she occupy your thoughts even when you aren't around her?"

"Yeah. Sometimes…," Ralph paused, biting on a thumbnail, "a-a lot."

"Tell me what is unique about this girl. What do you find attractive about her apart from the, uh, physical qualities?"

"Um… She has always been amiable to me. She even has the ability to make me laugh. She picked me as her lab partner, on-on purpose and not just because she wants me to do her work for her. She defends me when people say I'm weird, and she won't let people cheat off of my work. A-and she always smells r-really nice."

They stood silently for a few seconds until the rice started to boil over. Walter quickly moved the pan off the heat, stirred the contents and replaced the lid.

"A crush is my conclusion, but as I said, I'm no expert. Do you think she reciprocates your feelings?"

"Even harder to tell," Ralph replied glumly.

"Does she flirt with you?"

"How would I know?" the boy scoffed.

"Your mom tried to teach me about flirting once," Walter smiled fondly at the memory, "Does she flip her hair when she's around you? Does she touch you randomly?"

Ralph frowned in concentration. "I don't know about the hair thing, but she touches my arm and my shoulder from time to time. I-I like when she does that, so it is notable. And when she entered her contact information into my phone, she put a little heart symbol beside her name. I've thought a lot about what that might signify."

"I think the only way to know for sure is to ask."

Ralph looked horrified. "I can't do that!"

"Well, maybe you can do a series of experimental touches to see how she responds. Try holding her hand. That was always a good indicator for me. If she reacts well, maybe you could eventually work up to a preliminary uh, kiss?"

"I-I guess I could do some research in that way," Ralph blushed furiously and swallowed convulsively, "I know it's been a few years since you and Toby talked to me about human reproductive functions, but I don't remember anything about kissing. I-I'm still a uh, novice in that regard. I guess I'm what mom would call a 'late bloomer'. Do you have any pointers? Is there anything I would need to know?"

Walter had to bite the insides of his lips to keep from grinning. It was just that he could definitely sympathize with Ralph's discomfort in this arena. "Well, there's no formula for it. But kissing is pretty natural. That part of your anatomy is the same, so chances are if you like something, she will too. Just do what you think you might like and follow her lead as well."

They stood quietly for some time. Ralph was frowning and blinking, deep in thought, until they heard Paige's car turn into the driveway. Through the kitchen window, they could already hear Ivy jabbering away as she got out of the car. Ralph jerked his head up and looked at Walter.

"I think this discussion has been productive. I'm going to call my lab partner now."

"Uh, Ralph? What's this girl's name?"

"It's Rachel. And Walter? Don't tell mom or, uh anyone, okay?"

Chuckling, Walter said, "You got it, Bud."

Not pausing to listen to the reply, Ralph raced to his room, phone already in his hand.


	4. Just Us Girls

**AN: This little story is for musiqueismyjam1041 who wanted to see a continuation of what happened between Ralph and Rachel, so if you haven't read the previous chapter you are going to be lost. It is also for Otuowa Yanney who wanted to hear Walter's daughter's voice, and for lookingforthestars who thought the idea of Ivy was interesting, so now you can meet her! And for hpdude_4life who just needs a little fluff to combat Waige withdrawl. Sorry it's not more Waige-y, my friend. Next time.**

 **This is rated K.**

 **P.S. Forgive me for any mistakes I made with the Spanish. I have the vocabulary of a three year-old and I'm very rusty on the grammar.**

 **JUST US GIRLS**

The door popped open before Rachel could even knock. Expecting Ralph, she didn't immediately see who answered. Until her eyes dropped down a couple of feet. Peeking around the edge of the door was a pair of inquisitive brown eyes with a mop of riotous, dark curly hair topped with a gaudy plastic tiara just visible above them.

A little arm snaked around the door and a pudgy, dimpled hand grabbed her wrist, pulling her inside the entryway. The umber eyes narrowed in evaluation as Rachel was subjected to a thorough inspection by the small girl in front of her.

"You are obviously Rachel," she said when the examination was done. Her voice was sweetly high pitched like most children's, but there was no hint of a lisp or any other babyish qualities to her words.

"And you must be Ivy," Rachel answered.

" _Princess_ Ivy," the tot corrected her, looking indignant with her hands placed on her hips. However, it was difficult to look stern when barefooted and wearing a lacy, pink nightgown and a lop-sided tiara.

Rachel bowed low and said, "Forgive me, your highness."

Ivy burst into giggles showing the two distinct dimples in her cheeks. "It's okay. My brother is _always_ forgetting. What is your surname? I'm interested in family origins."

"My last name? It's Aguirre."

"Oh, that's Spanish! Encantado de conocerle," Ivy grinned expectantly.

Ralph's voice piped up from the other room, "Are you talking to yourself again, Squirt?"

"No. Me hablando a su amiga," his sister called back.

"English, please. Not all of us have the gift of gab in multiple languages." Ralph came into view and froze in his tracks.

Rachel's lips twitched as she glanced at the top of his head. Ralph's eyes widened and he whipped off the plastic crown he'd forgotten he was wearing, leaving his dark hair standing up on one side. "Ivy, you know what Mom says about you opening the door," he grumbled, frowning at his little sister.

"I was careful! And I wanted to see her. You said she was pretty enough to be a princess too. And I concur."

Ralph blushed and his eyes dropped to his shoes.

"Well, thank you, Ralph. Y muchas gracias, Princesa Ivy. Hello, by the way. Can I come in?"

"Oh, uh, s-sure," he said and gestured toward the kitchen with the crown in his hand.

Ivy was beaming. She grabbed Rachel's hand and pulled her along while chattering merrily, "We were just playing a game and having a snack. Do you like peanut butter and banana sandwiches? They're my favorite and they're nutritionally dense if the bread is whole grain, so my mommy approves when I eat them. I think your mom would be okay with it if I share mine with you, don't you? Ralph always cuts mine into geometric shapes for me, but you can tell him what shapes you like and he can cut them different for you if you want…"

Ralph looked pained and mouthed, _I'm sorry_ to the older girl above his sister's head.

Smiling broadly, she answered aloud, "It's fine. I know I'm a little early."

The trio sat at the kitchen table eating snacks and finishing the game the siblings had started. Kicking the rungs of her chair with her heels, Ivy jabbered away like brainy magpie citing facts and spouting nonsense in four distinct languages showing off for her new friend.

Ralph kept a constant eye on the time when he wasn't stealing surreptitious glances at Rachel. He was relieved she didn't seem too bored or annoyed with all of Ivy's yakking.

When the game was over and the little girl won, thanks to Ralph's inattention, he announced it was bedtime. Ivy's countenance darkened. She folded her arms. Pouting and scowling, she said, "Princesses don't have bedtimes!"

"They do if they don't want to be reported to the king and queen," Ralph shot back, "You know you promised Dad you would go to bed on time tonight so Rachel and I could do our homework."

"But I still have eleven more minutes! And it's only _six_ forty-nine in Alaska!" She argued stubbornly.

"I really regret that I taught you to tell time, and remember it's actually _eight_ forty-nine in Colorado." Ralph shook his head and sighed, "By the time we get your teeth brushed and you have your story, it'll be eight o'clock. Unless you want to skip your story…"

"No! I want a story like always! Can Rachel come for the story part too?"

Ralph cringed. Ivy liked him to read with different voices for the characters.

"I'd love to hear your story, Ivy. Thank you for inviting me," Rachel said with a mischievous grin, "I'll just go out to my car to get my book bag while you brush your teeth, then I'll meet you in your room. Which one is yours?"

"It's the second door on the left down the south hallway. See you in a jiffy. That term really means the time it takes light to travel one centimeter in a vacuum, so it may be a little longer than that, but soon, okay?" Ivy bounced up and zipped out of the kitchen toward her bathroom.

Ralph and Rachel were left in the noticeably quiet kitchen and he shifted uncomfortably in his chair. "I'd better go and supervise…"

"Okay. I'll see you in a jiffy." she answered with a wink.

Ralph was sitting in the rocking chair with Ivy perched in his lap when Rachel crept in. She sat on the edge of the little girl's bed listening to the siblings take turns reading from the book 'Fox in Socks'. She was captivated by them. They were absolutely perfect together. They read faster and faster competing to see who could get through the tongue twisters the quickest without messing up. She could tell they did this routinely. When they were finished, Rachel stood and clapped her hands delightedly. Ralph gave her a shy, crooked smile in return.

Ralph made a show of checking under the bed and in the closet for bad guys (since monsters don't exist in real life according to Ivy) and he tucked his sister in. She threw her little arms around his neck and gave him a loud smacking kiss on the cheek. Clearly embarrassed, he returned her affectionate gestures perfunctorily before whispering good night.

"I love you, Ralph! You're my favorite brother!"

"That's not a compliment, Runt. By the process of elimination, I'm also your least favorite brother," he grinned, then finished quickly "But, um, l-love you too, okay?"

Ivy beckoned Rachel over to sit on the bed and whispered loudly as all children tend to do, "Be nice to Ralph. I can tell he really likes you." She put her tiara on Rachel's head, "You can be his princess now."

"Thank you, Ivy. I will try to be worthy of the crown. Sweet dreams!"

Ralph was mortified and hustled them out of Ivy's room leaving the door slightly ajar. "Um, I'll get my book and meet you in the living room," he said not making eye contact.

"C-can I, uh, offer you something to drink or anything?" Ralph asked when he joined Rachel a few minutes later.

"No, thanks. I'm still full of peanut butter and bananas and milk."

"I'm really sorry about my sister."

"Oh, I find her charming and adorable. And _so_ smart. Like her older brother, right?"

"She evidently has an overdeveloped hippocampus. She remembers everything verbatim and repeats it relentlessly. My Uncle Toby says her off switch is in her subconscious, because she's only quiet when she's asleep." Ralph gave her a sideways smile and joined her on the couch.

They spread their books out on the coffee table and talked nothing but physics for the next forty-five minutes. Ralph was comfortable for the first time that evening. He was finally in his element and he could briefly forget to be nervous with the girl beside him.

"Let's take a break. I think my head is going to explode," Rachel said slouching back on the sofa.

Anxious once again, Ralph glanced sideways at her. "Okay. Uh, what would you like to do?"

"Talk? I don't know that much about you even though we've been lab partners for months. I've learned more about you tonight from Ivy."

"Accuracy cannot reasonably be expected from a four year-old. Even a brilliant one like her," Ralph replied.

"Well, tell me something about yourself then. What do you like to do besides physics?" Rachel asked, amused.

He was quiet for a few minutes, his thoughts racing. What could he tell her that didn't sound lame or nerdy? Shrugging, he settled on the truth. "I like astronomy. I have my own telescope. And I enjoy mineralogy and chemistry. I like to build engines and try to make them run more efficiently or experiment with alternative fuels. Sometimes I write code for new computer programs either by myself or with my stepdad or my friend Sly." Would she think he was a pathetic loser now? Ralph braced for rejection.

"Wow. Those are all really awesome and worthwhile hobbies. So much more interesting than watching reality TV and talking about celebrities. Why don't you take me stargazing sometime? I bet you know where all the cool stuff is in the sky. A girl could learn a lot from you, I think."

Pleasantly surprised by her reaction, Ralph said, "You really think so?" He thought maybe it was time for the touching experiment he and Walter discussed, so he scooted a bit closer to her on the couch. He cautiously slid his hand over next to hers on the cushion. His heart was beating erratically as he scrambled for something to say and tried to muster up the courage to take her hand.

Rachel turned to him and smiled, "I know so. Even being around you makes me feel smarter."

Her hand covered his first and gently squeezed. His eyes shot down to his knees. Ralph was afraid to move. He didn't want her to take her hand away, but he wanted to give her encouragement, so he tentatively turned his hand over and slowly laced his fingers with hers. She didn't move away, so he glanced up at her from the corner of his eye. To his intense relief, she was smiling.

Rachel was the first to break the silence. "Ralph?" she asked, "Have you ever had a girlfriend?"

Ralph swallowed, then he blurted out the bald facts, "No. Most normals don't react well to me. They find me annoying or strange."

"I think _that's_ annoying. Normals? Is that what you call people who aren't brainiacs like you?"

He thought she sounded amused rather than offended, so he nodded, "But all normals aren't alike. My mom is different and so are you. I appreciate how you defend me to other normals."

"Just for the record, _this_ normal thinks you're amazing and incredibly cute."

Blushing, he tried to think of a compliment for her, but his mind was on overload and he came up blank for a time. He finally grasped onto something nice he could say back to her, "You are absolutely lovely. And-and you always smell great." Okay. That might have sounded a bit weird. It felt like he had no control over his mouth.

Rachel squeezed his hand again and said, "See? That was sweet and genuine."

Sweet? Ralph looked at her full in the face then. His smile was bright and he felt a little light-headed. He had to remind himself to breathe. Rachel smiled shyly back at him, but her focus was on his mouth rather than his eyes. Now that contact had been established, should he try to kiss her? Would she be amenable to that? His eyes landed on her mouth and she seemed to be moving a bit closer.

Ralph was almost panicked. He had no idea what to do. Luckily Rachel appeared to. She leaned in and touched her lips softly to his. It felt electric. He couldn't focus on her with her face so close, so he shut his eyes. And let himself feel. Oh, my. Instinct took over and Ralph returned her kisses getting a bit bolder and deepening the contact after a few minutes.

Until they heard a small voice from behind the couch say, "I thought you were supposed to be working on physics!"

The teenagers sprang apart and Rachel started giggling. "I guess we're working on chemistry now," she said and Ralph joined in the laughter.


	5. Peace from the Pieces

**PEACE FROM THE PIECES**

 **AN: I'm working on 'Ralph to the Rescue', I swear. But I really want that story to be light and funny, and everything I was writing was coming out sad and angsty. That's why I wrote this one shot. This one's for you FicFan19. It was your suggested plot bunny hopping around in my brain. Hopefully it cleared out the melancholia and I can finish my other story with a lighter heart. Fingers crossed. Here goes...**

In the dimming light of the fading evening sun through the garage windows, Paige rummaged through her overnight bag that was lying on the coffee table in front of the red sofa. Walter noticed she seemed unable to make eye contact with him.

"Thanks for letting me crash on your couch, Walter. It should only be a couple of days while they finish the renovations on my condo." She was putting up a brave front, but he could see the slump of her shoulders and the tiredness in her eyes.

He still wasn't much good at gauging emotions in himself or anyone else, but even he could see she looked sad and uncomfortable. It tugged at him and gave him that old familiar and now unwelcome ache in his chest. He fought the instinct to want to fix things for her. It wasn't his place anymore. Not that it ever really was.

After his disastrous attempt to stop her from going to Tahoe with Tim and her choice to stay with the Homeland agent, their relationship had been strained. It was no longer natural or easy to be around her. In truth, it hurt every time he looked at her, so he'd avoided her as much as possible in the two months since.

Instead of inquiring about what was wrong, he answered untruthfully and with faked nonchalance, "Oh, it's no trouble. I won't even know you're here." Walter was getting good at pretending not to have feelings again, he just wished he was as efficient as he used to be at ignoring and suppressing them.

She continued in a too bright voice, "I really appreciate it all the same. It will save me the expense of a motel. I'm sure glad Ralph is out of school and at his dad's this week or you would have two of us underfoot."

Aggravated with the awkwardness and hating the unsteadiness he felt, he replied, "You know you can always stay here anytime you need to. You both are always welcome. N-no matter what."

The silence that fell was louder than if they were shouting their unspoken questions at each other. Walter cleared his throat and Paige jumped slightly. "Why don't you stay in the loft, and I'll stay in the Airstream downstairs. There is no need for you to occupy a couch when the camper has a perfectly good bed and it affords each of us more privacy."

She forced a laugh that irritated him with its falseness. "Oh, I didn't think about the camper. I'll move my stuff in there. That would be less of a disruption for you." Paige began fiddling with the zipper on her bag again, her fingers shaking slightly. She was unable to get it closed properly.

Resisting the urge to do it for her, or even worse, touch her hand, Walter turned and made his way toward the stairs. He threw, "Okay. Suit yourself," over his shoulder feeling a bit of satisfaction at the abrupt rudeness of the words, even knowing that was petty and illogical.

An overwhelming curiosity got the better of him just when he was about to make his get-away. "I know it's none of my business, but why didn't you stay at Tim's?" He asked, frustrated with himself for actually voicing the question. He turned back toward Paige, his eyebrows raised.

She huffed another humorless laugh and rolled her eyes. "Oh, uh, that didn't work out."

Tim had gone to another division of Homeland to complete his training shortly after Paige started a relationship with him. At the time Walter had been grateful he'd at least been spared seeing the couple together day after day. It hadn't stopped him from closing himself firmly off from her, but at least he didn't have to endure Tim's smug looks.

His rebellious 'circulatory muscle' leapt with a momentary sense of foolish hope at her words. Walter had to bite the inside of his cheek to keep from asking what happened. "Well…uh, sorry to hear that," he mumbled grudgingly. He was getting better at lying too.

Paige looked at him skeptically. "You are?"

Well, he'd always had a hard time fooling _her_.

Walter didn't answer. Anything he could think of to say would have been too revealing, exposing a backlog of suppressed thoughts and emotions that had been festering in his mind like a suppurating sore that hurt too much to touch.

He was about to continue on his way upstairs, when he barely heard her mutter, "Well, I'm not."

Paige sat down heavily on the couch and sighed. His unruly mouth said sarcastically before he could clamp it shut, "Why? I thought he was the perfect mate, every woman's dream boyfriend. Considerate, romantic, emotive, understanding, smart, good-looking, strong and most of all, n-normal," he sneered to cover his envy with contempt.

Her smile turned ironic and she snorted. "Nobody's perfect, Walter, believe me. I'm certainly not. And I seem to be the queen of poor choices in men."

He offered her a twisted smile in return. "Well don't look at me for advice. I'm much worse than you in the romantic arena. And my only foray into the realm of actual love was an unmitigated failure." His eyes darted to his shoes, hoping she didn't catch his admission.

"Love?" She whispered. Good thing to know his run of rotten luck remained intact.

Walter shook his head, ignoring her questioning look. "How exactly was Tim a poor choice?" He asked instead, to evade replying.

"I appear to be doomed to pick men who care more about their jobs than me. We hadn't even been dating for two weeks when he got a call from the Navy. He was reinstated and left without a backward glance. First Drew and baseball, then Tim and the SEALS. Even...," Paige stopped short and looked away.

"Even?" He startled her with his sharp tone.

"You, Walter. You picked Scorpion over me. Multiple times, in fact."

Rage and hurt erupted inside him and he hissed, "You're comparing me to _them_?! I came chasing after you to stop you from being with another man. Or don't you remember that? Trust me. I haven't forgotten one iota of that humiliation!"

"Oh, I remember. You came after us…after you pushed me to go in the first place. I practically _begged_ you to ask me to stay! But after lecturing me about how any feelings that interfere with the goals of Scorpion should be buried, you ushered me out the door. Told me it was best that I go. I was a more than a little done with second place, Walter," she spat, "And when you did catch us, you listed all the logical reasons why it was a bad idea to run off and be together with Tim. And why I would be more comfortable if I came back with you! How was I supposed to react?"

"For the record, you had the same 'for the good of Scorpion' argument with yourself at first. And I never _really_ chose Scorpion over you! It was easier to say that instead of admitting I was scared, okay! Scared I would screw things up like I always do and you would leave for good like everyone else!" He was almost yelling now, "And I wasn't about to spill my guts and admit that I loved you in front of your pet Neanderthal!"

They both stared at each other mouths gaping in shock for several long seconds. Thinking only of retreat, Walter pivoted on his heel and rushed toward the stairs.

He didn't stop when he heard her soft, "Wait. Walter, wait."

Standing at his kitchen counter leaning on the palms of his hands and breathing rapidly, he tried to restore his equilibrium. He knew Paige wouldn't leave it alone, and he had to present his calm outer shell to her when she came up to confront him. Sure enough, he heard her footfalls on the stairs just minutes later.

Sighing in defeat, he moved to the couch and slouched down on it. Leaning his elbows on his knees he pressed the heels of his hands to his eyes, wanting to hide.

Paige stepped into his private living area and froze, staring at him until he lifted tortured eyes to hers. She was so beautiful to him it was painful to look at her.

After a few moments, she said, "Loved? As in past tense?" Her voice sounded choked.

Walter desperately wanted to lie. But his verbal filter failed again. He stared at the wall as he stated, "It's my understanding that love is an almost permanent affliction. I-I can attest to that fact."

Coming over to sit next to him, Paige quietly asked, "If you knew I was never in love with Tim, and that I returned your feelings, and I'd do everything in my power to work things out and stay with you no matter what, would you choose to preserve your company over being with me then?"

Looking at her directly, his eyes almost black with intensity, he answered, "Scorpion could burn in hell if I just had one more chance to be with you." His jaw clenched, he looked toward the ceiling as a single tear escaped his tight control and slipped from the corner of his eye down the side of his face before he hastily dashed it away.

Paige gasped, her eyes filling with tears. "I'm here, Walter. I'm not leaving. And I love you. So much."

Grabbing each other and holding on tight, she sobbed softly into his shoulder. He breathed her in, his relief profound. The knot in his stomach relaxed for the first time in many miserable weeks. "I missed you so much," he murmured in her ear, "Stay up here with me tonight?"

Paige nodded. Her voice was shaky and husky when she said, "Walter, I have something to confess."

Pulling back so he could look her in the eyes again, he asked, "What's that?"

"I lied. There are no renovations happening at my apartment."

Walter chuckled, pulled her back to him and gently kissed her trembling smile.


	6. Stir Crazy

**STIR CRAZY**

 **AN: Just a little story to illustrate Paige's ability to bend Walter to her will. This one has a 'T' rating for a dab of sassy smuff (smutty fluff) toward the end. As always, please Read and Review. (I need your R and R! lol)**

"You're hovering again."

"I am not…' _hovering_ '. I'm simply checking to make sure you have everything you require."

" _Again_. And I still don't need anything. Just like I didn't need anything five minutes ago. Or the twenty or thirty times you've asked in the last hour. Walter, I will let you know if and when I do. Unless you want to unlock my computer and let me go downstairs and get some work done. That would help me a lot. I'm going out of my mind up here."

"The doctor recommended a stress free environment. You need rest. And I won't apologize for being concerned."

"Concerned? You're a helicopter! Black Hawk O'Brian, much?! And a couple of invoices or case studies won't cause a major setback. I can feel my brain rotting from lack of use! I'm not a day time TV kinda girl."

"I know you aren't used to someone taking care of you or being inactive. But I promised the doctor if he would discharge you to my care, I would follow his instructions to the letter. I won't be responsible for any detriment to your recovery. Besides, I doubt your brain will atrophy significantly in the two additional weeks you are supposed to be immobile. I'll bring you something else to read the next time I come back to check on you. Or I'll have Sylvester bring you another puzzle book. Or Cabe could bring in more of his Westerns for you to watch."

"Oh, joy."

"Sarcasm duly noted. No more Westerns. I've left your tea by the bed and I've moved the intercom over by you too. My phone will be with me at all times. If you need to get up for any reason or need anything at all, please call someone."

"Overbearing mother hen." Paige grumbled petulantly at Walter's retreating form. She threw a pillow at his back for good measure when she heard him muttering to himself about difficult patients. The soft missile landed on the floor with a flump, falling short of the intended target.

Paige and Walter had been in a relationship exactly thirty-six hours when, on a case, she'd been pushed down an open elevator shaft in a crumbling old building while chasing a lead. Fortunately, she'd only fallen about twelve feet. Unfortunately, she was scared and banged up and bruised. And she sprained a wrist and shattered an ankle. Even in the haze of adrenaline and pain, she could still see the absolute panic on Walter's face when he'd found her. He almost shut down. Through gritted teeth, she had to remind him to call for help. His fingers were shaking so badly he was hardly able to dial.

She was hospitalized for close to two weeks. It had taken two surgeries and enough hardware to make her a living Home Depot to piece her ankle back together. He never left her side. Through the grogginess from the pain meds, she remembered him giving clipped instructions to the other team members about Ralph and various cases and temporary alterations that needed to be made to the garage so she could have help while she recovered there. As soon as she was off the IV antibiotics, Walter began pestering the surgeon to discharge her.

It wasn't that Paige was ungrateful for his help. In his usual manner, he'd stepped in and made sure the things in her life ran smoothly in her absence. Her son was fed and dressed and was taxied back and forth to school, homework always checked. Her bills were paid. Her laundry was done. Her car washed and maintained. Walter almost made her obsolete. The first week out of the hospital, she was so glad. She was completely dependant, her mind still foggy from pain meds and trauma.

But now? Now she was just annoyed. And mindless with boredom. And feeling more than a little useless. Which was causing her to act childish and rude. The more limiting Walter was, the more she tried to pick a fight with him. He wouldn't budge. He was firm and rational, but he wouldn't engage in an argument, which just pissed her off worse.

A little while later, Toby poked his head around the corner. He picked up the pillow from the floor with an amused grin, tossed it on the end of the bed and said, "If you are trying to penetrate a particularly stubborn skull, you'll need a more solid projectile. What's the matter, Paige? Going a little stir crazy? You know it's actually a good sign that you're restless. It means you aren't in as much pain and you're healing on schedule."

"He sent you up here to reason with me, didn't he? Toby, I'm ready to climb the walls! Can't you use your medical background to get my jailer to allow me to do something constructive? Please convince him my ankle won't suffer if I do a little paperwork."

"You want Walter to release you due to your good behavior?" Toby threw her a mocking smile.

Paige sighed. "I know I'm being a grouch. Which makes me even more grouchy. But I'm not an invalid. I didn't suffer a head injury. I just want to be able to help out."

Toby perched on the side of the bed. "Aside from your mobility exercises, you're supposed to keep all weight off that ankle for another two weeks before you can start your physical therapy."

"I know that. But I have crutches. I could make it to my desk and back. He's just being overprotective."

"The crutches could aggravate the injury to your wrist with prolonged use, but it wouldn't cause any harm for you to go short distances since you've already been using them to get back and forth to the bathroom. And you're absolutely right about Nurse Ratched being overprotective. The problem is, in all the years I've known Walter; I have never seen him so scared. He saw you take that tumble and he thought for sure you were gone. Now he's terrified to let you near anything having to do with Scorpion."

"My wrist is almost completely back to normal anyway." She pouted. "Couldn't you talk to him?"

"You don't think I've tried both directly and indirectly? He shuts me down almost immediately. You'll have to find a way to convince him of your capabilities. Walter needs to see you're well on the way to being fully recovered before he'll let up."

"Well, the whining and complaining aren't working for me. What do you suggest?"

"I can think of one exercise you could use to show him your progress he would find impossible to resist."

"What's that?"

"Now you're just being obtuse. Think. What's the one thing that would show him you are healing nicely and ready to resume most of your former activities? Something he would never restrict."

"Are you talking about…?"

"Sex. Yes, Paige. Use every wile at your womanly disposal. I can promise you he won't forbid that particular endeavor. Right now he's tighter than a whole rhythm section of drums, so it would serve two purposes. Not only will he see you are able to move around without causing yourself bodily harm, he will stop riding everyone's asses if you ride him instead."

"TOBY!" Paige burst into embarrassed giggles and she smacked his shoulder.

"Seriously. He's making us all crazy. You would be doing the world a favor if you would just do Walter."

Blushing, Paige retorted, "You know we haven't even been on an official first date yet, right? There wasn't time before the accident, and since then I've been doped up and restricted to this bed or occasionally to a chair by the tyrant downstairs. And it's not like I'm looking my seductive best right now either. I have a serious case of bed head and that's just scratching the surface of all the routine maintenance I've been unable to do. I haven't seen a razor, much less a pair of tweezers in almost a month! I'm starting to look like Frida Kahlo! I couldn't entice an inmate on death row right now!"

"Don't sell yourself short. Some of those convicts are pretty desperate. Nearly as desperate as your celibate sweetie. Happy was going to come up in a little bit to help with your shower. Just tell her what you want to do. Believe me, she will be more than, well, happy to help with anything you might need. She's had about enough of O'Brien the Overlord too."

XOXOXOXOXO

Walter gingerly set his laptop down on the worktable in the lab and rubbed at the tension in his aching neck and shoulders. The lights were on in the bedroom of the loft but they were dimmed. He didn't want to wake Paige up if she was sleeping. She needed to rest and he could admit to himself he needed a little break. The forced proximity and the necessary confinement because of her injuries were making her unusually terse with him lately. He'd felt guilty because he was relieved when Happy volunteered to stay at the garage with Paige for the day.

He was also exhausted. To start with, the couch in the loft was not conducive to adequate sleep, but he didn't ever want to be far from Paige if she needed him during the night. To top it off, he'd put in a full day of coding and field work before picking up Ralph at one school and shuttling him to another school making sure he had the right backpack with the right books and a high protein snack in between to aid concentration and a drink for hydration. While the boy attended his college class, Walter had to run some errands and take a load of clothes by the Laundromat where, in between washing, drying, folding and trying to find matching socks, he worked on paperwork.

When the college class was over, Walter made sure the young genius had dinner and did his homework. He cleaned up the kitchen, noted the grocery items needed on the list and checked to see if Ralph had everything he needed for the marathon of activities the next day, and saw him settled in the Airstream for the night at a reasonable hour.

Walter couldn't believe Paige did all this on her own while working two jobs or going to school; especially when the boy was younger and needed more supervision and care. Ralph was mostly independent now, but her days must have been so long when her son was little. Boundless energy must be a requirement of mothers. His admiration for her grew even while he knew her patience with his 'hovering' was growing thin.

He was more than ready for her to resume some of the domestic duties, the trouble was, he wasn't ready to let her go back to work. The idea was…not favorable. In fact, it petrified him. It wasn't logical, but the fear was there all the same. The sight of her falling into that dark, empty abyss… Well, there were no words to describe the sheer terror of that moment. He still relived it over and over in his dreams.

He put those thoughts aside when he heard Paige call from the other room, "Walter? Is Ralph asleep?"

"Yes. Finally. After he came up to say goodnight to you, he had to show me his new homebuilt planetarium device with each of the night skies he's been designing…" Walter's voice trailed off as he walked around the corner and saw her.

His eyes went wide, his jaw dropped and he stopped dead in his tracks. Tired was no longer the adjective he would use to describe how he felt. Stunned was more apt.

When he left that morning, she had seemed pale and thin and fragile, her hair hanging limply and her clothes rumpled. That Paige had been replaced with the most beautiful woman in the world albeit with a booted foot, who walked (or hobbled) out of his fantasies and was sitting smack in the middle of his bed. Her hair was shiny and lay about her shoulders in soft waves. She was wearing a short, filmy, sky blue nightgown with an almost transparent wrapper. His favorite color! Walter swallowed hard. Her one visible leg was smooth, silky perfection. She was exquisite. His brain already overtaxed by the busyness of the day, he stared awestruck while trying to form one single coherent thought.

"You were saying?" Paige asked with the tiniest satisfied smirk on her face.

"I, uh…What?"

"Why don't you come over and sit by me for a few minutes. If you won't let me work, you can at least keep me abreast of the goings on at Scorpion."

A breast? Yes. No. _Two_ of the most sumptuous ones he'd ever seen in his life accentuated by a frothy bit of lace at her neckline. "Hmmm?" He managed after nearly a full minute passed.

Her low, soft laugh caused a thrill to course down the length of his spine. Almost of their own volition, his feet carried him to her bedside. Paige patted the mattress indicating he should sit beside her. Who was he to argue?

He sat.

And then Walter could smell the heady combination of lavender, freshly laundered sheets and warm, willing woman. His woman. All his. Every corner of his imagination was inundated with pictures of tangled clothes and sheets and bodies.

Mentally he slapped himself. Paige was still recovering. What kind of a boyfriend had lewd thoughts about his girlfriend when she was hurt? But, oh boy, she didn't exactly look hurt. She looked captivatingly healthy at that moment.

Paige lifted one hand and stroked his face tracing his hairline, smoothing her fingers down over his temple and following the line of his jaw. What an odd discovery to find he'd been so starved for affectionate contact with her. For weeks she'd only grasped his hand or shoulder out of necessity for support. She tilted her head to one side and let her thumb brush his lower lip. He sucked in a sharp breath between clenched teeth.

She leaned toward him and whispered in his ear, "You've been so good to me. Will you let me be good to you tonight?"

Holy hell! Did she mean…? How was he supposed to resist that offer? "Good? Uh, good to me? H-how do you mean?" Walter's body was already reacting to her gentle ministrations as she threaded her fingers through the short, dark hair behind his ear. He closed his eyes, drinking in the sensation; greedy for it.

In lieu of a verbal answer, Paige pressed her soft lips to his, her hands drifted over his shoulders and chest finally dropping to the top button of his shirt. He was completely undone by her tenderness. Unable to stop himself, Walter groaned and slanted his mouth over hers, deepening the kiss.

Without breaking the kiss, she helped him shrug out of his oxford shirt she'd nimbly unbuttoned while they were both otherwise pleasantly occupied. When the need for more oxygen became urgent, his undershirt was the next thing to go. He was quickly growing too warm and the sudden gust of air felt good against his skin when it was whisked off. Walter rested his head on her shoulder, panting against her neck and placing open mouthed kisses to the soft spot behind her ear as her fingers explored his bared back, shoulders and chest. His tongue traced the rim of her ear as his hands stroked her. Toying with the sleeves of the wrapper, he finally garnered the courage to push the flimsy fabric down her arms telling himself she was probably too warm as well. Her soft moan told him she didn't object.

But when she pulled away and sat back, he thought for a minute he'd done something wrong. Until she slid a finger under each of the thin straps of her gown and wiggled the negligee down to pool at her waist. Walter almost passed out as he reached for her and found himself caressing previously unexplored curves.

Just when he was about to claim her mouth again, she breathed, "Do you think this is o-okay? It won't cause a…" her voice caught and she whimpered when he touched a particularly sensitive spot, "set back."

As most of his circulation wasn't concentrated in his brain, he fumbled for an answer before he murmured against her lips, "If we-we're really careful of your, uh…" Then he promptly lost his train of thought.

After another fevered kiss, she asked, "So, oh… That's so amazing! If I'm okay to do this, then I should be able to do other less strenuous activities, right?"

The functioning part of his mind told him he was being bamboozled, but he told that part to shut the hell up and acquiesced on a growl, "Okay. Yes!" hardly remembering exactly what he was agreeing to.

XOXOXOXOXO

Toby cautiously entered the garage the next morning, trying to gauge the atmosphere and wondering if Walter still had the stick up his backside. Was the shrink facing a new set of edicts and brusque commands from his royal highness?

That's when he heard Paige's energetic, "Good morning, Toby!" and noticed her sitting at her desk typing away, the picture of health, a pair crutches propped easily within her reach. His shrewd eyes darted to his boss, and he saw 197 hiding a smug smile as he sipped his coffee. Then the man winked, yes actually winked, at the woman seated at the desk across from his.

They were giving him so much material to work with, how could it be anything but a good morning!


	7. Kiss of Death?

**AN: SPOILER ALERT! If you haven't seen the sneak peeks for Civil War, you may want to watch them before reading any further.**

 **This is just a little, short drabble of my take on the Tim/Paige kiss. I was a little revolted the first time I saw it, then I made myself look at it again. Paige is so clearly conflicted and I just kept remembering what Toby said in the Charades episode about Sima's reaction to Walter's kiss. When the Waige kiss happened, it was awkward, but it was hot and Paige was _way_ more into it! **

**P.S. I blantantly ripped off 'exciting as unflavored gelatin' from lookingforthestars. It cracked me up and I thought it was an apt description. Thanks for that, my friend.**

 **KISS OF DEATH?**

What has been seen can't be unseen. He now firmly believed that notion as the unwelcome and nauseating image was forever burned into his retinas.

Why? Why didn't this particular eventuality occur to him during the seven long hours it took him to reach Tahoe? The only answer he could fathom was his continuous rehearsal of the three significant words, his anticipation of Paige's reaction to them, and his adrenaline high prevented him from considering it may already be too late.

He was furious with himself for waiting and continually pushing her away. Stupid, Stupid, Stupid lack of adequate emotional quotient! Jealousy and hurt clawed at him as he turned on his heel and walked away before they saw him. He might just cease to function if humiliation was added to the mix. Of course, they probably wouldn't notice a nuclear apocalypse at that precise moment.

The whole awful day came crashing down on him all at one time threatening to crush him and he was suddenly completely exhausted. But he'd be damned if he was going to try to get a room in the same resort with _them_ and risk being spotted. He'd rather drive down the road and sleep in his car.

Then his mind recalled a memory of something Toby said over the comms back when he was kissing that woman, Sima or what ever her name actually was, in the hallway outside her hotel room.

"I hate to disagree, but she's not that into it. No hands on the back of the head, no fingers through the hair...maybe Walter's a bad kisser."

The words echoed through his mind now. Even though it made him cringe to replay the scene he'd just witnessed in his head, he did so because he wanted to reconsider it analytically. Yes, okay. Paige didn't appear to be touching Tim with anything but her lips. He swallowed his revulsion. She wasn't clinging to him or even leaning toward him. In fact, she had something in her hand that she held between them. Did that mean…? Maybe there was still an iota of hope?

His phone rang interrupting his analysis.

XXXXXOOOOO

She was going to give this a fair chance! When Walter told her it was best that she go, it hurt like hell. Again. So, she was determined to leave those feelings for him behind her and move forward from there.

Walter was never going to come around anyway. Never. And she refused to wait for him on the off chance he would grow a brain or, in this case a heart, another minute! She was so tired of being yanked back and forth and she deserved someone who could return her feelings. Right?

Was she relieved when she found out her room was separate from Tim's? Truthfully? Yes. But she wasn't about to admit that out loud to him.

Was something in LA holding her back? As of right now, no. She was a free agent. She was done. Done holding out for someone she knew wasn't capable of admitting his feelings. So, _no_. NO. She wouldn't _allow_ him to hold her back any more.

Oh, hell. He was going to kiss her. She forced herself to relax. She was done holding herself back, remember?

And... it felt like cheating! Walter had no claim to her! Damn it!

She would NOT compare Tim's kiss with Walter's! But, sadly she was more interested in finishing her chocolate bar then continuing this particular kiss. Kissing Tim was about as exciting as unflavored gelatin. She slapped herself mentally. Why?! Why couldn't she just fall for this guy!

But when Tim's phone rang, all she felt was relief.


	8. Looking Behind the Curtain

**LOOKING BEHIND THE CURTAIN**

 **AN: Um, don't ask? My mind is a strange, strange place at times. This is rated K+ to be safe for a little language.**

 **Review, pretty please. It'll give you something to do while you're waiting for tomorrow night.**

The Tin Man never understood the need for a heart. His body was a state-of-the-art machine complete with a top-of-the line brain mechanism and he had the latest in cutting edge axes. What else could he possibly need? Feelings would only interfere with efficiency and provide unnecessary distractions. So he worked in the woods beside the aptly named Yellow Brick Road contemplating the math and science that held everything in place and over the years he slowly became as rusty as his old, beat up Datsun.

Until the day _she_ came skipping by with her little son Toto, who was also made of tin, and her scarecrow friend Ray. And he felt a twinge of…something. Ray the Scarecrow kept singing 'If I Only Had a B-Ray-n' at the top of his lungs until the Tin Man began begging them to apply oil to his mouth 'if only' so he'd have the opportunity to tell the Scarecrow to pipe down.

Not only did Dorothy oil his jaw, she applied healing oil to all his stiff and creaky components even the ones his own creators hadn't understood much less maintained. He didn't want to admit how much better he felt when she showed him that kindness. When he was well-oiled and functioning at optimal capacity again, he listened with some confusion and a bit of contempt to their stories and their frivolous desire to seek out the Wizard of Oz for help with their quandaries.

"Would you like to come with us?" Dorothy asked. Toto nodded enthusiastically in encouragement while the scarecrow kept dancing around them and singing.

He had no desire to see this Wizard. He considered wizardry junk science and wishful thinking for those with less superior brain mechanisms.

Frowning, he told the others that while he clearly saw they all had needs, he himself needed nothing. That's when Dorothy leaned toward him and put an ear to his hollow metal chest. He was unused to contact, so he froze. He inhaled sharply and her intoxicating lavender scent teased his nostrils.

If he was made of flesh, he might have been embarrassed when she straightened and said, "It's just as I suspected. You have no heart. You should come to Tinsel Town with us and ask the Wizard if he can get one for you." Instead of the scorn or ridicule he was accustomed to, the look in her eyes was soft and her expression was full of sympathy for him.

And in that instant, he had an overpowering desire to acquire a heart if it would please her.

"Okay," said the Tin Man, his face full of skepticism with a dash of cautious hope, "but I'm not skipping and I certainly won't dance."

Dorothy just smiled and rolled her eyes. She grabbed his hand and began singing as they started on their way. Her voice was lovely and against his conscious will, the Tin Man's feet began to move to the cadence of her musical tone. He preferred hearing her sing to any other sound he'd ever heard and wanted to do what was necessary to keep her singing.

When the Tin Man noticed the little tin boy was becoming tired, he offered to carry Toto. Dorothy called him 'sweet' and smiled at him as no one had before. Nobody had ever used a word like that to describe him either. Not understanding why, he had the desire to live up to her assessment just to hear her say it again and keep looking at him just that way.

They continued on the journey, and soon they met a cowardly lion named Sylvester. Dorothy convinced the lion he should join them on their quest. She was optimistic the Wizard could supply their new lion friend with courage too.

As they went along, the Tin Man found he was growing rather protective of his little group of misfits. For the first time ever he knew a sense of cohesive belonging, of being an integral part of a whole, of importance outside himself and his own thoughts.

They decided to settle for the night and found a nice field of flowers in which to rest. Sylvester the Lion and the little Tin Boy Toto were frightened by the sounds coming from the neighboring forest. So, the Tin Man showed them the stars as a distraction. While all three were proficient at counting and labeling them, Dorothy told them all the accompanying stories and myths behind the twinkly little lights in the sky. Even though the stories were preposterous, the Tin Man was rather enchanted because he had never seen the stars in quite that way.

The roaring of a motorcycle startled the Tin Man awake early the next morning. He was still so drowsy, he could barely open his eyes and wanted nothing more than to go back to sleep beside Dorothy and Toto.

However, a warm rain began to fall on them and they heard a grouchy voice saying, "Hey, dummies! You know those are opium poppies you're napping in, right?"

The rain quickly revived the troop and they hesitantly approached the surly person on the motorbike, the lion hanging back and trying to hide his bulk behind the others.

Dorothy was busily wringing out her apron and using the dry corners to wipe the rainwater from the Tin Man's and Toto's faces, guarding them from rust. "Who are you?" Toto asked curiously, doing his best to evade his mother's fussing.

In a tonelessly bored voice, as if repeating a speech from rote, the leather-clad woman replied, "I'm Happy the Good Witch. I mean you no harm. I'm only here to act as a guide and alert you to any possible dangers you may face. Blah. Blah. Whatever." She crossed her arms, then added, "Oh, and fix all your mechanical issues," as an afterthought.

"W-we don't have anything mechanical to fix. A-and exactly what dangers are we talking about? M-maybe I should go back?" The lion stuttered, looking fearful.

"Uh, hello? Don't you have two tin guys here? Mechanical enough for you?" Happy the Good Witch gestured haphazardly at Toto and the Tin Man and glared back at the lion. "And as for the dangers, they are on a need to know basis. The rain I conjured saved you from the poppies, didn't it?"

The lion cowered behind the others, but said defiantly all the same, "Well, I'm not riding on that organ donation machine of yours. You can forget it. Motorcyclists are 27 times more likely to die in a crash than passengers in a car."

"Well, my predecessor floated around in a bubble! My ride's gotta be safer than hers! But if you insist…" The Witch stomped the kick stand into place, waved her magic wrench and the bike disappeared. "I guess we can walk." Then she mumbled under her breath, "No matter how lame and slow that is."

The group set off together toward Tinsel Town making good time and enjoying each others' company; none more than the Tin Man. For some reason, the sun shined brighter, and the colors in the world grew more vivid as he went along hand-in-hand with Dorothy and Toto and beside his other friends. Soon they could see Tinsel Town in the distance.

Only one danger befell them as they pressed onward. A flying monkey called Drew tried to capture Dorothy and Toto and take them away to his castle in Maine. The thought of losing those two had everyone very upset. So, they fought valiantly and eventually defeated the monkey sending him back to his lonely castle empty handed. No one put himself in more peril trying to save Dorothy and Toto than the Tin Man. He was uneasy thinking that losing them might destroy the new-found stability of the team. He told himself that fact was obviously why he was so concerned. The Tin Man was very fond of facts.

They arrived at Tinsel Town just as the sun was setting. There were two armed guards outside the city gates. One was called Cabe and the other was called Tim. The Tin Man narrowed his eyes at the guard called Tim when he noticed the man was staring at Dorothy as if he was captivated by her.

Dorothy was the team's elected spokesperson, so she explained to the guards the purpose for their visit to the city. As everyone watched the Scarecrow romp and gambol around, Cabe the older and stern looking guard said, "Well, I can see that guy is in dire need of a b-RAY-n! We will personally lead you to the Wizard's house."

So, two more were added to their number. It took a while for the Tin Man to trust the older guard, but he eventually accepted him as a member of their clan. He inexplicably never warmed up to Tim even though the younger guard was amiable and everyone else seemed to welcome him. Something bitter and dark filled up the empty, heart-shaped space inside him when Tim walked with Dorothy or made her laugh or touched her in any way. It was illogical and he knew it, but he was unable to control it. So, he did his best to pretend everything was fine. After all, he told himself firmly, it would be a detriment to the equilibrium of their group if the Tin Man dominated all of Dorothy's attention all the time.

At last they arrived at the Wizard's house, but it didn't look much like a house. It resembled a casino more. And when they entered the main floor, their senses were inundated with flashing lights and resounding bells. It was all very dazzling.

As their eyes became adjusted, they heard a booming voice say, "Who dares enter the Wizard's lair?!"

Sylvester the Lion started to sweat and whimper while everyone else looked around for the source of the voice.

"Ha! That rhymed! Are you suitably awed? It's just one of the many wizarding services I provide. Just drop your money in a slot machine on your way out." the voice was a little softer as if the volume had been adjusted.

"No! No! Don't look behind the curtain," the voice warned, sounding a trifle panicked as Happy the Good Witch tromped toward the back of the room. Not heeding a thing the voice said, she yanked the curtain aside to reveal a man in an emerald green fedora, looking at a bank of monitors and speaking into a microphone.

"What the hell!" The witch said, frowning. "If you're a wizard, then I'm an underwear model!"

The man behind the curtain had the grace to look a little sheepish and he gave a little wave before he muttered between his teeth, "I would definitely pay to see that."

"Uh, gross!" The witch scoffed. "Not in your lifetime which is going to be considerably shorter if you don't start talking. We came to see the famous Wizard of Oz! You're trying to tell me you're him?"

Sylvester the lion didn't know who to fear more in that moment and decided the fake wizard was less threatening than the witch, but he still shrank behind the Tin Man. Dorothy, trying to calm the turbulence as always, said, "Let's everyone just calm down and give him the chance to explain."

Happy the Good Witch looked belligerent, but she gave one hard nod and glared at the offending 'wizard'. "I bet he doesn't even have a magic wand," she grumbled.

"While you're just my kinda witch and I'd love any opportunity to show you my wand and all the magic I can do with it, I guess I'd better explain first. I'm obviously not a wizard. But I am a genius. And a doctor. Harvard trained. You've heard of Dr. Oz? …well, I'm not that quack on TV either. I'm Doctor Awes. Because I'm awe-some. Get it? Really? Nobody?" He shook his head, "People around here are a little more impressed with the title of wizard than doctor, so that's what I put on the business cards. Word gets around…," he shrugged, "And I'm sorry about the theatrics. I use it to set the mood."

Cabe the Guard snorted impatiently. "Can you help these folks or not? Or is all this just a sham? Or a mockery?"

"A schmockery?" Everyone said in chorus.

Dr. Awes held up his hands. "I'm not a total fraud. Tell me all the problems and between all of us, we should be able to come up with answers for everyone."

Dorothy stepped forward, not only because she was the spokesperson, but in the interest of peace because everyone else wanted to throw things at Dr. Awes. She told him all of their tales of woe and friendship using honesty and open communication.

During this exchange, Happy the Good Witch pulled the Tin Man aside and told him, "On the off chance this glorified shrink can pull an answer for Dorothy out of his backside, you do know she will go to Tahoe and leave you behind for good, right? Doesn't that bother you? If it does, you'd need to speak up soon. Tell her you want her to stay before it's too late."

"Well, it doesn't bother me," the Tin Man argued stubbornly, "It's best to stick to the original goals of the team." But his chest echoed and felt empty as he said it.

After hearing the whole story, Dr. Awes stated he'd thought of a solution for everybody. The Tin Man thought he was just acting like a know-it-all until one at a time, he began to address their issues. First, he pointed out that Ray the Scarecrow had a brain the whole time, but he hadn't engaged it because he was too consumed with a past tragedy. He acted the buffoon to cover his sorrow. When that tragedy was dealt with, Ray began to act normal. And, sure enough, everyone was as awed as promised.

Then the Harvard alumnus turned to the lion and pointed out he actually had more courage than the rest of them. Courage, after all, is not the absence of fear. It is being afraid and moving forward anyway. Sylvester had looked into the yawning maw of fear and loss more than any of them, and yet he pressed onward not only surviving, but thriving. In fact, no one but Cabe the Guard could rival him for bravery. Toto high-fived the lion and the two of them went off to spend the weekend playing video games to celebrate.

The doctor pointed out to Dorothy that she had the power to go Tahoe to hear music anytime she wished to go, she just had to say the words. Looking confused and a little torn, she turned to the Tin Man and asked, "Do you want me to stay here with you instead?"

The Tin Man shook his head sadly. "No. I think it's best that you go."

Her smile seemed forced and turning to the younger guard, she said, "Would you like to go with me? You can take the Tin Man's place. You can be my Tim Man. Would that be okay?"

Tim gave her his most charming smile and nodded. The two of them said 'Tahoe' and disappeared in a heart-shaped cloud of red smoke.

The Tin Man clattered to his knees unable to identify the sensation sweeping through him. In the last few days, he'd had a glimpse, just a glimmering, of something infinitely precious and he had the awful feeling he'd lost it for good. He'd realized too late. He felt the void in his chest more acutely than ever.

Dr. Awes helped him to his feet and said, "I'm sorry. A cyclone brought her here, but that cyclone wasn't enough to keep her with you. You needed to ask her to stay. Believe me, it gives me no pleasure to tell you this. You've always had a heart. It just doesn't dwell inside your metal casing. It lives and beats in Dorothy."

And the Tin Man had let her go over the rainbow with someone else…

XOXOXOXOXO

Walter woke with a jolt when the wheels touched down at LAX. He'd closed his eyes the minute the plane took off from Tahoe. Pretending to sleep was easier than facing Paige and Tim and the disbelieving looks they were both throwing him. Obviously, he'd actually gone to sleep on the hour-long flight.

Megan always watched The Wizard of Oz when she was sick as a child. She said it was her comfort movie. He never understood the appeal, but he'd sat through it with her many times because he didn't like leaving her side when she was ill. He could almost recite each line verbatim. So it was no wonder his mind used the premise while he slept.

And it didn't take a Harvard trained psychiatrist to understand what his subconscious was trying to convey either. He had to find a way to tell her. Walter just hoped he wasn't actually too late.


	9. Right From Wrong

**RIGHT FROM WRONG**

 **AN: I'm still reeling from the S3E1 & 2! So much was good about it. I loved the 'giant balls' running joke. In fact, there were tons of funny lines throughout for pretty much everyone. Sylvester was a _beast_ in this one. He just rocked it! I absolutely loved Happy too. She didn't get angry and throw things at Toby and a couple of times it would have been justified. She was actually a little vulnerable and sweet in this episode. Unusual for her, but still in character. I loved how Cabe took up for Walter and how he obivously cared about him enough to talk to him. (Although I wish the 'you aren't ready' speech would have come from Paige instead) **

**All that aside, I felt the need to defend Walter. I just feel so bad for him right now. :-( Forgive the angst. I'm on my 11th day of a 12 day stretch at work, so lack of sleep played a factor this...**

 **Rated 'K'**

He. Was. Wrong.

Okay. He could recognize that fact even if he was only 'half baked'.

But he wasn't the only one.

Megan was wrong. She said 'Don't be afraid to love'. In actuality, he should have been more scared than he was. Love was all well and good for someone as lovable and loving, as _normal_ as she was. But for him? So far it proved to be a disaster in every conceivable way. He couldn't think of a more miserable state of being. Love's miasma hung around him like a cloud of fetid smoke. Unfortunately, it was incapable of dissipating as easily or quickly as smoke.

Paige was wrong too. She told him that being more human would eventually make him a happier person. Nothing could be farther from the truth at this point. She also advised him to be more open, but his every attempt ended in humiliation and one catastrophe after another. And the last time he tried to be open with her, she's the one who had shut him out. It was all very confusing. And frustrating. And not a little…agonizing.

And where to begin on the interfering interloper? He was wrong on every feasible level. Even thinking about Cabe's intruding intern made him bilious. Questioning authority? Check. Wasn't the military all about the chain of command and following orders? Yet he'd challenged the division of resources aggressively. Arguing about military protocol instead of offering viable solutions? Check. If it was up to Tim, the captain of the submarine would have sunk to his death along with all one hundred and ten submariners under his command. Underestimating Ralph? Check. The idiot said 'There's apple juice for the kid…?' when he was talking about eating at stupid Betty's Restaurant. Ralph's eleven, not two! And he's a genius. Like he can't appreciate music if it's actually good? And talking about Paige as if he owns her? Double check. They'd only been on a few dates! …Putting his hands on her? He shuddered in revulsion. Nope. Can't go there. He rapidly slammed the door on the mental image that thought conjured.

Toby was wrong to pester Happy. He should accept her and not give up on her. Her reticence should not be surprising to him. She was always a puzzle to him. That is one of the things that attracted Toby to Happy in the first place. Well, people always say they want to be loved unconditionally, but the same people never want to be called upon to love that way themselves. Did the shrink have the right to know? Sure. But, it was Toby. He wasn't known for his patience.

Was Happy wrong for keeping her secret? Probably. Before he knew the situation, he would have said yes unequivocally. But now? She may still be wrong, but he understood her decision at least. It wasn't only her secret.

On the other hand, Ralph was right. If for no other reason, he appeared to be minding his own business and not taking sides.

Regrettably, Cabe was also right about some things, however painful those facts were to swallow. Maybe he wasn't ready. Maybe he wasn't emotionally mature enough yet. Maybe he wasn't fully formed. Maybe he would ruin things if he attempted to win Paige now. Maybe it would damage Ralph and the team. And hurt Paige. Those things are outright unacceptable.

Most of all, Sylvester was right. Being alone does suck.

He'd been awake for close to forty-eight hours, but he still couldn't relax enough to sleep. His mind was too active. Instead, he tried researching ways to become a 'fully baked' person. An incredible seventy-eight percent of the information online involved smoking marijuana when he searched using that criterion. But when he changed the wording of his inquiry, the sources that were credible, without exception, said love wasn't a selfish emotion. In fact love was more than just a feeling. Real love is action. It involves the choice to do what is best for the other person even if it isn't pleasant or ideal for oneself. It was interesting reading and it rang true. So, based on that premise, he began to devise a new plan.

 **Bring on S3E3! Maybe my next ficlet won't be quite so angsty!**


	10. Where's Walter?

**WHERE'S WALTER?**

 **AN: I guess I'm still a tad heartbroken about the whole Walter-Paige-Interloper triangle nonsense. And now I know Tim is with us at least through Thanksgiving. He's like herpes. There's no getting rid of him. Anyway, this is WAY angst-y. Hopefully the next bit of fluff I write will be a little more light-hearted. I guess we'll see after the episode tonight.**

 **Rated 'K'**

 **And please review. It will work to improve my mood.**

"Where's Walter?" Paige asked for what felt like the millionth time in the last several months. He was never in her line of sight these days unless they were working on a case. And she _never_ saw him if Tim was around. Not for the first time she wondered if the garage had secret corridors. She was tempted to ask Happy to install a GPS tracker on the man…or make him start wearing a red striped sweater and a bobble hat so the other geniuses could make a game out of spotting him. It was getting a little tiresome. As usual, her answers came from all quarters in the form of shrugs with no one volunteering to help her search.

She sighed and walked to her desk. Pressing the 'Talk' button on the intercom, she said, "Walter?"

No answer. Not a new development. It just happened with more frequency these days.

After checking to make sure the 'company car' was still in the lot, Paige made her way up the stairs to the loft. Sure enough, the genius was in the lab standing in front of a white board staring at the squiggles and scrawls of a complicated equation and tapping a dry erase marker against his bottom lip completely lost in his thoughts.

She rapped on the doorframe with one knuckle. "Walter?" Paige tried once again to get his attention. Nothing. "Walter!" She said a little louder.

Her boss slowly turned to face her then, dropping the hand holding the pen back down to his side. "Hmm? Uh, sorry. Did you need something?"

"Ralph just told me about your gift to him. It's... it's too much."

He stood silently for a beat, looking confused and slightly hurt. "It was for Christmas _and_ his birthday. You, uh, don't approve?"

Paige quickly amended, "No, it's not that I disapprove. Believe me, I appreciate it. It's just too generous of you."

Her boss gave her a wry smile in return. "It wasn't all that generous. Happy and I will enjoy the project just as much and it won't be finished for a long while yet. Ralph and I have been talking about designing our own car with all the features we'd like to have for months now. And he's wanted to experiment with alternate fuels ever since he took that automotive engineering class at Cal Tech. I just provided the materials necessary to get started."

"You bought him a sports car engine."

"We will be changing and improving things, but, essentially yes. And it will eventually grow into a whole car for him about the time he's old enough to drive." Walter nodded enthusiastically. Then he looked unsure again, "I really wanted to do this for him. Please?"

Paige shook her head. How could she say no when they were both so excited? "Do I get a say in the safety features at least?"

"Of course," he said hopefully.

"Thank you. For all of it. Ralph is thrilled. Absolutely over the moon."

Walter was positively beaming and it twisted something inside her to realize this was the happiest and most animated she had seen him, when she saw him at all, in a very long time. They stared at each other unspeaking for a few moments before he cleared his throat and looked down. When had things gotten so awkward between them?

Paige was the first one to break the silence. "Patrick just got here before I came up. We'll be ready to eat in fifteen minutes or so."

She started to turn around to head for the stairs when she heard his quiet reply. "Oh, um. I'm not very hungry. Just…go ahead and start without me."

Paige leaned one shoulder on the door jam as she faced him again. "Walter. It's Christmas dinner. And it's the first time we've all done something together as a whole group in a good while."

Still refusing to meet her gaze, he mumbled, "You know I'm not big on the holidays."

"I know. But you've celebrated with us the last two years. You can put in an appearance this time too, can't you?" She tried to squelch her impatient tone.

Walter gave her a pained look. "I'm really busy with my new algorithm."

"And you can't put it aside for half an hour to come and eat with the rest of us? Why? What on Earth is this really about? I hardly see you any more. Are you avoiding me?"

His 'yes' was barely audible and it lanced a sharp jab of hurt straight through her heart. When he saw the look on her face, he hurried to correct his answer, "Not-not _you_ specifically. Well, okay, p-partly. But only when…" He ground to a halt grimacing.

She stalked over to him and crossed her arms. "When what, Walter? When I'm with Tim? Is that it?"

"Yes. Okay?"

Her eyes flashed and her chin went up. She opened her mouth to retort, "Not okay!" She managed before he interrupted her.

He said in a rush, "I have done _everything_ you asked. I promised you I wouldn't sabotage you again. I told Tim I wouldn't interfere. And I haven't. And I know someone like me will likely never… I'm probably always going to be on my own. I'm just not equipped for…well. And I-I am glad you're happy. You deserve to be. But you-you can't reasonably expect, uh, me to want to-to…watch. It's too much to ask. I think it would be even for someone who _is_ fully-formed."

Tears stung Paige's eyes. "Walter," she whispered. Then she swallowed and said around the tightness in her throat, "Who told you that? Who said you aren't fully-formed?"

Staring down at his shoes and shifting his weight from one foot to the other, he finally answered, "Someone I respect. Someone who cares about me."

"It's not true. Well, it's no more true for you than any of the rest of us. We are all changing and growing throughout our lives. We all have room to improve. That's part of what it means to be human."

His eyes still downcast, he smiled crookedly and just shrugged. "Some of us have more improving to do than others, I guess."

Unable to stop herself, Paige leaned in and enveloped Walter in a hug. His arms stayed at his sides for a blink or two, but he finally leaned into her, sliding his arms around her middle. He rested his forehead against her shoulder and she felt the tension leave his body momentarily as he breathed a sigh against her neck.

When he pulled away from her, neither one could make eye contact. At a loss for words, Paige turned and made her way toward the stairs. She nearly missed his murmured, "Merry Christmas, Paige."

Pasting on a smile for the others, she busied herself setting the table and putting the finishing touches on the feast even though her heart still ached. She was unable to tolerate the thought that the garage was his home, and he yet wasn't even comfortable joining them for a meal there. Hurriedly, she fixed two plates, turned to Ralph and said, "Honey, would you like to eat upstairs with Walter?"

She set both plates on a tray while her son fairly gushed in reply, "Yes! Could I? We want to start making our plans for the engine improvements as soon as we can!"

From then on she would make sure Walter wasn't so alone. Not on her watch.


	11. Human Progress

**HUMAN PROGRESS**

 **AN: I've been a little hurt for Walter since Season 3 started. I finally figured out it's because I hate the implication that he's less than a whole person or that he doesn't deserve someone like Paige. That and I want to gag everytime I see Tim and Paige PDA or hear them flirt. It's left me feeling a little uninspired. Don't get me wrong, I'm still loving Scorpion and I know it will eventually be okay. I'm just a tad defensive of Walter.**

 **Please read and review. It's the only currency we receive as fanfiction authors and feedback is the only way we know you want us to keep writing.**

 **Rated: K+ for a tiny bit of language.**

Sylvester noticed immediately, of course. After all, he knew the exact number of items on his desk and their locations within a fraction of a millimeter. So when he spied an official-looking letter addressed to him in the center of his keyboard he opened it at once.

It read:

"Dear Mr. Dodd,

We would like to express our gratitude for your recent donation. Your generosity will help to save the lives of innumerable children and better the lives of countless more.

You are hereby invited to the official opening and dedication of the Megan Dodd Memorial Pediatric Wing…"

The rest of the letter was blurred behind a sudden flood of tears. In fact, he was so choked-up, he was unable to share the information with his teammates right away. But it did occur to him to wonder where the money for the contribution came from, as he had been unsuccessful in raising the rest of the required sum.

Before Sly could recover enough to say anything, Toby came bursting through the door spewing vitriol to anyone attending about the roads and traffic in LA and the necessity of using Uber while his auto insurance company fought it out with the city and the military over who exactly was responsible for the destruction of his car. His diatribe stopped abruptly when he noticed all of his various degrees and diplomas were matted and framed and hanging on the brick wall behind his workspace. Mouth hanging open, strangely touched, his eyes dropped to the set of keys lying atop his desk. He recognized them. They belonged to the 'company car'.

"Uh, Boss? Some reason you left your keys on my desk?"

Without looking up from his computer, Walter replied, "Until they fix or replace your car, I thought it would be prudent to allow you unlimited access to mine. I live here, so it's reasonable to assume you need reliable transportation to and from the garage more than I do."

"So, does that mean you also…," Toby started, gesturing vaguely at the bricks beside his bookshelf, but he found he was unable to find the words to ask about his new 'wall of fame'.

Walter cleared his throat. Still averting his eyes, he stated matter-of-factly, "We here at Scorpion are proud of our team members' individual achievements."

Toby was staring at Walter, completely dumbfounded at that statement, when Happy came roaring into the back of the garage on her bike.

Sylvester and Toby both watched with fascinated anticipation as she strolled over toward her worktable. "What's everyone staring at?" She asked. "Don't you guys have something better to do…?" Her voice trailed off as she tossed her keys down and set her helmet beside an open cardboard box.

"Is this…? Is this a carburetor for the Harley Knucklehead I'm restoring? I've been looking for one of these for ages! Which one of you found this?! Man! I owe you my first born. You'll have to wrestle Toby for the rights, but that shouldn't be a problem…"

"Hey, now! No jabs at the wimpiness of your adoring fiancé!" Her boyfriend piped up.

"Was it you, Toby?" Happy sounded astonished and almost delighted.

"Nope. I suspect it was actually your husband. He's on a weird roll today."

"Walt?" The mechanic asked wonderingly.

Still obscuring his face behind his screen, he answered vaguely, "We at Scorpion appreciate the, uh, valuable work you do for the team. You deserved some form of recognition."

After watching the entire exchange, Paige wandered over to the others and asked Sylvester quietly about the contents of the envelope on his desk. He whispered to everyone what the letter contained. They all turned as one to gawk openly at Walter who was doing his best to remain as inconspicuous as possible.

Just then Cabe sidled in with an enormous grin on his face. "It's not my birthday, but I'm sure as hell not returning the box set of Clint Eastwood movies someone left in my car! Thanks for that, you guys! I owe ya one!"

"Okay, that's it. Walter? Can I have a word, please?" Paige said as she walked back toward the kitchen, a confused and slightly worried frown marring her features.

Walter grabbed a large manila envelope from the corner of his desk and followed Paige's retreating form. With the rest of the team not so covertly trailing behind and listening from a not so discreet distance, she led him toward the table. After she turned to face him and while she was still drawing breath to speak, he said, "Don't worry. I didn't forget about you. Yours just requires a little more explaining."

Momentarily stunned, Paige took the envelope that he offered, opening it with suddenly shaking, nerveless fingers. It contained brochures and a two night gift certificate for a spa package at an expensive and exclusive resort in the LA area she had mentioned in passing a few months prior. At the time, she'd only been aluding to a dire need for some overdue pampering.

Paige was still gaping when Walter rushed to explain, "I, uh, appreciate that it takes a great deal of patience to manage this team. Especially me. Well, this is a weekend for you to relax that I won't…won't sabotage. I, uh, also wanted to volunteer to watch Ralph for you. He can stay here on the days of your choosing. He and I have several projects we can work on together."

He looked eagerly hopeful for a few beats, but when she didn't respond, his face fell and he hastened to apologize. "I-I'm sorry. Did I guess wrong? If you don't like it, I can…"

When she finally found her voice, Paige interrupted looking mystified, "No. No, of course I _like_ it. It's amazing. And thoughtful. And very… unexpected. I guess I'm just wondering what all this is about. Are you okay?"

Looking adorably befuddled and a bit hurt, Walter replied, "Isn't this what you told me to do? I wanted you to see that I listen to what you say. I-I'm trying to learn. To-to improve. To be more human, like, uh, like…Ti-, uh, someone you'd want in your life."

"Oh, Walter," Paige breathed with a ghost of a smile on her lips, her eyes going soft. "It's all wonderful if a little over-the-top generous. But I recognize you're trying and I do love it. All of it."

He shrugged sheepishly, "It didn't take that much work and I figured it was about right for two years worth of acknowledgements. I got Richard Elia to contribute toward the hospital wing. It was tax deductable and he's still feeling guilty about the whole, uh, rocket incident. The rest was basically just research."

Her smile was a little crooked when she answered, "I didn't think we had that much in the petty cash fund. For what it's worth, I'm really proud of your efforts and you're already someone I want in my life." Pushing up to her toes, Paige brushed her lips across Walter's cheek before making her way back to her seat looking bemused.

Toby slunk up behind the genius while he was still tracking the liaison's movements, fingers touching his face where her lips had been. "Nice one, Walt," the shrink whispered, "The only question is, what did you get in appreciation for the interloping intern?"

Rolling his eyes in Toby's direction, Walter muttered back, "I'm trying to improve my EQ. I'm not applying for sainthood."


	12. Mommy Issues

**MOMMY ISSUES**

 **AN: Okay, the more I think about it, the more I think it's a terrible idea for Veronica to interfere on behalf of Waige. Walter looked a little worried when she said she was going to help him. I hope he stays wary. Paige will hate/resent anything her mother tries. And if Tim is sent away before Paige decides it's over, especially if it's her mother's idea with Walter's help? Toby may be right about her carrying a torch for the interloper and resenting Walter. I hope Wally will 'take the high road' like he does in this short, little drabble, but I have the feeling the writers are going to make him really screw up with Paige...again. *sigh***

 **Here's what I would like to see instead...**

"Ms. Dineen? Could I talk to you about something?" Walter asked quietly, his brow furrowed, eyes scanning the vicinity for possible eavesdroppers.

"Walter, please call me Veronica. We're practically family." Warmth oozed out smoothly with her words.

"Oh, uh, well. I'm not sure how you arrived at that conclusion… But I just want to clarify something if you don't mind."

"Ralph told me SO much about you during dinner. You're his hero, you know. You have obviously been _so_ good for him," she answered with wide-eyed admiration.

"Th-thank you? But I'm not a hero. He-he's a great kid. He and I understand each other. Our thought processes and strengths are very similar. But Ralph has many good influences here at Scorpion. We're all committed to helping him reach his full potential. And Paige's mothering instincts are superlative. Those are Ralph's exact words, you know," Walter stated proudly.

"Well, it's clear to me that no one has had quite the same kind of influence on him that you've had…" Flattery was clearly her first language.

"Ms. Dineen…"

"Veronica. Please," she reminded him firmly while reaching out to gently touch his arm.

"Okay. Uh, Veronica. It's just... I've thought a lot about what you said. Um, about helping me get… Get Paige back? I'm not entirely comfortable with the notion. I don't think I can collude with you on something like that. "

"Walter, I'm only…"

"You see, uh, I'm terrible at deception. I am inept at faking emotions. Actually, I'm terrible at recognizing or conveying _real_ emotions most of the time. It's one of my biggest flaws and one reason I...failed in my attempts with Paige. Although I have made some improvements in that arena, mostly thanks to your daughter's guidance. I'm also uncomfortable with any sort of manipulation. Especially in this kind of endeavor. I've had a previous effort backfire in recent history. The consequences were...unpleasant. And I can't say I enjoy it when people, well mostly Toby, do things like that to me. Paige is very sensitive about being manipulated. For obvious reasons. Maybe you haven't been around her enough recently to know this, but if I lied to her… If she figured it out... She's very astute about things like that, well… we couldn't even be friends after that. Such an outcome is not acceptable. And, you see, I really do, uh, care for her. So if she is happy with-with, uh, Tim, I want that for her…I want her to be happy," He finished those words with a slightly pained grimace he couldn't entirely suppress.

"Oh, Walter. She is not happy with Tim." She rolled her eyes when she said the trainee's name, "Trust me. I just want what's best for Paige like any mother would." Veronica purred.

"See, I want what is best for her too. That's what you do when you, uh, l-love someone. I don't think being manipulative is for her best. I've been striving to improve my emotional maturity lately. Otherwise I'll never be, uh, fully formed so to speak. So, I may not like it, but it's still her decision to be with... Tim, Ms. D-, uh, Veronica. I can't interfere even if it ultimately hurts me. I don't want to hurt _her_. I respect her. Please respect that."

With those words Walter went back to packing up the leftover Chinese food from dinner.

Veronica smirked to herself in satisfaction. She'd made sure Paige was in a position to hear every word of their little exchange. Phase one was a complete success. This was going to be _so_ much fun!

 **P.S. Can you tell I'm still a little miffed about Cabe's half-baked and not fully formed comments? They seem to pop up in all my writing since Episode 2.**


	13. Mommy Issues II - The Maternal Menace

**MOMMY ISSUES II – The Maternal Menace**

 **AN: Okay. Since you guys asked so nicely. :-) Here is a continuation of the last chapter. Wally may be a little OOC here, but I would give real money if he would do this on the show! Enjoy!**

 **Probably rated 'T' for language and stuff.**

"What the hell did you do?" Paige's tone was quiet, but her voice was shaking and her words were clipped as she stalked in the door and planted herself firmly beside her boss's desk.

Walter looked up from his screen frowning and blinking, obviously confused by her mood as well as her words. "You'll have to be a little more specific. To what are you referring?"

"Don't. Just don't bother denying it, please." She took a few seething breaths, her fingernails digging into her palms, before finishing, "This has Walter O'Brien written _all_ over it." It was still early in the morning and she hoped Walter was the only one in the garage besides Ralph, who had stayed over night to work on some project or other. But she didn't dare raise her voice because she wouldn't put it past one or more of the other geniuses, including her son who wasn't in her eye line at that minute, to be unobtrusively lurking around a corner listening with all their might. Paige didn't want this particular conversation overheard.

It had taken every bit of her completely sleepless night to calm down enough to address the person she was sure was aiding and abetting the true culprit. She felt so foolish and that just added fuel to the already roaring fire of her anger. If she was thinking rationally it would occur to her to question why anger was the predominant emotion and not sadness. She was embarrassed and feeling betrayed, but she wasn't sad. Not even a little. Underneath everything more volatile Paige was feeling, there was a shred of relief, but its presence just made her all the madder.

"I-I'm sorry, uh, Paige. I really don't know what it is you think I've done this time." Walter shut his laptop with a snap and stood up leaning a hip on his desk facing an irate Paige. He crossed his arms tightly over his chest assuming a defensive pose.

Rolling her eyes, she answered, "Okay, if you're going to play dumb, I'll lay it out for you. Tim got a huge promotion. One he didn't even apply for. Congratulations to him. Yay. The trick is, the position is in the DC office of Homeland. That's over two thousand miles away, in case you weren't aware of that little fact. By the way, you'll be glad to know he said he's not into long distance relationships. Oh, and he also said he got this job mostly due to a glowing recommendation he got from Scorpion. Sound familiar now? Remember, I've read your employee evaluations for Homeland. Without exception all your employees were rated adequate with 'no comment' in the comments section. Except for his apparently. Ringing any bells? I'd think with your perfect memory and all, you wouldn't need help recalling when you orchestrate these things." Eyes blazing into Walter's, chin up, she waited for him to deny it.

A flash of hurt crossed Walter's face as he started to reply, "I-I didn't.. I don't…" Then his eyes widened and he bit his lip. "Paige, I did _not_ do this. But I think I know who might have…"

"Oh, you're right. I've already drawn my own conclusions. I'm _sure_ it was my mother's idea." She spat the words as if they were poisonous. "But she had to have help. She has no skills as a hacker. She certainly didn't submit an online application for him or fake his evaluation from Scorpion. And I overheard the two of you plotting at Thanksgiving. I should have _never_ let her back into my life. I knew she would pull something like this or worse! I expect this kind of thing from her. But you? You have _no_ excuse! I've had it with your interference!" Her volume was rising in spite of her intentions.

Ralph shuffled into the room. His head was bowed, his eyes downcast. "It wasn't Walter, Mom. It was me. I'm sorry," he finished in a whisper.

Paige whirled around, "What?! What did you do?"

In a brittle tone, mouth twisted into a sneer, Walter said, "Don't be too hard on him. He's only twelve and your mother has a lot of experience persuading people to do things for her. And don't forget we geniuses are particularly vulnerable because we expect people to state facts like we do. I'll let you two talk this out. I'll be in the loft if you need me." As he passed the boy on his way to the stairs, he squeezed Ralph's shoulder in encouragement and gave him a sympathetic smile.

A little while later, a very contrite Paige climbed the stairs to the loft. Ralph had explained everything. Veronica had apparently spun a tale for her grandson about how unhappy his mother was. She was able to manipulate Ralph easily because, in his experience, his own mother only wanted what was best for him and always did what was right when it came to her son. He only wanted Paige to be happy and he'd noticed the signs of tension starting all the way back from Walter's disastrous launch into space. At first he thought it was due to his own lack of acceptance of her boyfriend, but it didn't appear to abate when he'd made an effort to get along with Tim. So he concluded his grandmother was right and he had helped with the scheme. Ralph was still in trouble, but her fury faded quickly in the light of truth. Now she was more than a little ashamed of her assumptions and her sarcastic outburst.

Not finding Walter in his private apartment, Paige continued up to the roof and spied him leaning on his elbows on the concrete ledge. Jaw clenched, posture rigid, everything about his body language screamed frustration and agitation. Approachable didn't exactly describe his stance, so she cautiously made her way over to him and leaned her back against the wall next to him facing the opposite direction.

"I'm so sorry, Walter."

Gaze still fixed toward the adjacent buildings, he replied stiffly, "For which part? The part where you accused me of doing something before you had all the facts? Or the part where you assumed I would interfere even though I promised you and Tim both I wouldn't. I promised, Paige. When have I proven untrustworthy in the past when I've given my word?"

"No. Never, Walter, I just…"

"And if you'd listened properly to any exchange between me and your mother as you claimed you did, and you paid close enough attention, you would have heard me tell her I didn't want any part of any kind of manipulation of you and your relationship."

"Walter, I didn't…"

Talking over her, he grated, "So, in addition to being black mold that creeps into every corner of your life, I'm apparently no longer even a good friend that you can trust."

"Listen…"

"I'm _tired_ of listening! I'm tired of listening to Toby tell me to forget about you and accept you've moved on with your life! I'm tired of listening to everyone telling me I missed my chance! I'm sick of Cabe telling me how great Tim is for you and what an amazing person he is if I would just give him a chance! I'm tired of hearing how unworthy I am of you! I got the message. I wish everyone would just shut up now!"

Beginning to get annoyed, Paige started to ask, "Walter, who says…"

"Everyone acts like you're perfect. Like _they're_ perfect and I'm the only stupid, emotionally immature one!" He pushed himself away from the wall and began pacing. "No one called you down when you were jealous of Stella…and I was drugged! So the hell what if I'm jealous of Tim! I'd like to see Toby accept and buddy up to someone who's screwing Happy! Like that would ever happen?! And you! Knowing full well I have feelings for you and parading your boyfriend around the garage. Kissing him. Rubbing on him. Gushing over how _sweet_ he is. Flaunting that sexy dress. Right in front of me! And _that's_ maturity?!"

Walter stopped pacing and halted not two feet in front of her, fists clenched, chest heaving, as he frowned down at her and his eyes burned into hers daring her to contradict him.

She didn't want to admit it, but she was a little turned on seeing Walter like that. So she decided to live dangerously and push a button or two.

"Wow. You've been holding that in for a while, haven't you? Why don't you say how you really feel next…" Paige was unable to finish goading him because he grabbed her upper arms and yanked her body against his. His mouth claimed hers in a savage kiss. Too surprised to protest, her startled gasp allowed his tongue to plunge between her lips and he pinned her against the wall with his hips while completely ravaging her mouth.

In seconds, her knees went weak. Her head was spinning. She clutched at his shirt, moaning into his mouth, and returned his kiss with abandon.

Abruptly, he pulled away leaving her breathless and more than a little excited. Paralyzed in shock and arousal, her eyes followed him as he strode to the door, jerked it open, went inside and slammed it behind him.


	14. Mommy Issues III - The Remorse Awakens

**MOMMY ISSUES III– The Remorse Awakens**

 **AN: Okay, last installment, kids. If you haven't read Chapters 12 and 13, you will be completely lost reading this one so you may wanna go back and review them.**

 **Thanks SO much for all the kind words and reviews! I hope this story gets you through this short hiatus. I'm DYING!**

 **This one is probably K+ for a few words and a dash of inuendo...**

It took some time, but Paige's heart rate eventually slowed to some semblance of normal again. When she drifted back to Earth and regained the use of her lower extremities, she took off after Walter replaying the whole incident in her mind.

First she thought about his tirade and all those accusations. Was it fair? Was it true? All of it? Any of it?

Then that kiss! That _kiss_! Where had he been hiding all _that_? Just reliving it made her knees feel wobbly again. Tim had never shown that kind of passion for her, not in all the months they were together. What they had was nice. Tame. Safe. Walter was a powder keg with a lit fuse by comparison. It was like a gentle, spring breeze versus a cyclone. How apt. Paige huffed out a humorless laugh.

The two of them had to fix this. But what should she say to him? Because the more she focused on his words, the more conflicted and regretful or, alternately, insulted she felt. But then her focus would shift. The kiss… Oh, my. Never had she been knocked so far off kilter by a kiss. Well, not since the first time he'd kissed her anyway.

Paige found Walter in the loft. Fortunately he was in the lab. If she'd caught up to him anywhere near his bed, she wasn't sure she could keep her mind from drawing vivid pictures, making any discussion worthless or incoherent due to wondering where all that pent up passion could take them.

Walter's back was to her. He was hunched over his worktable running agitated fingers through his hair, his shoulders bunched up with tension. Lost in thought, he jumped slightly when she said his name.

"This is not a good time," he muttered tightly.

"You know we're going to have to talk about this at some point."

"Understood. But it's not a good idea right now. I think I'll work up here today if you will let the others know."

Well. Just like that she was dismissed. Paige decided she would let him get away with it for the time being. Maybe it was a good idea to let him have time to process everything. Hell, it might be a good idea to let _herself_ have time to process everything.

All day long she seesawed between exasperation and excitement; voracity and vexation. And guilt. The guilt nagged at her every time she tried to deny the things he'd said. When Paige drove Ralph to school she was feeling resentful. When she greeted her other coworkers she was feeling remorseful. She paid invoices and felt aggravated. She went through the mail and felt ashamed. One minute she was devising arguments to refute what Walter said, the next she could see his point and wanted to ask for forgiveness, and the next she wanted to say 'screw it' and just kiss him until they both forgot the last few months ever happened. The impossible man had her tied up in knots. And he was the one who'd declared knot tying obsolete!

Somewhere in the recesses of her thoughts she acknowledged she wasn't feeling one iota of sadness about the demise of her relationship with Tim. Shouldn't she at least be a little bit upset over it?

And she didn't find herself arguing with her mother in her head either. Oh, Paige and her mother were going to have one hell of a conversation. It would probably be the last one they would ever have, but that was for another day. Her mind was too full of Walter. There just wasn't room for anyone else right then.

When her boss still hadn't put in an appearance by the end of the day, she offered to buy dinner for Sylvester if he would stay with Ralph for a couple of hours. By then, her discussion with Walter was way overdue, but she still had no idea how to approach him and no plan regarding what she wanted to say. She was the company liaison. Why couldn't she see a way to liaise her way through this situation? But how do you tell someone 'I may have messed things up but it's just as likely you messed things up at least as much and I don't understand you sometimes and you make me crazy a lot of the time and I know you love me because I was eavesdropping when you were hallucinating in space and I'm pretty sure it's a very bad idea, but I'm afraid I kinda love you too and I would really like a repeat of that incredible, Earth-shattering kiss just to be sure!'?

Paige needed to come up with something to say because she was still debating with herself when she was pulling back into the parking area at the garage. She half hoped Walter's car would be gone, but no such luck. The 'company car' was in its usual spot.

Hesitantly she walked inside. The garage's front door made so much noise it was impossible to sneak through it undetected. She made a mental note to see if Happy could fix that issue as she nervously scanned for signs of Walter.

And there he was, standing at her desk frozen in the process of putting a stack of papers in her inbox. Their eyes met and the paralysis became mutual as an uncomfortable silence filled the space between them.

The genius recovered first. Focusing on the papers in his hand, he said, "Oh, uh, hi. I thought you were gone for the day."

"That explains why you're out of hiding…" Paige said to herself.

"What was that?" He dropped the forms unceremoniously on the corner of her desk.

"Nothing. Not important. Walter, you know we need to talk." She made her way over to stand beside the conference table setting her purse and keys down so she could keep her eyes averted from his for a few more seconds.

Obviously stalling too, he answered, "Where's Ralph?"

"He's with Sly for a little while because you and I really need to clear the air and I didn't want an audience for once. You certainly can't keep working up in the loft every day from now on."

Turning toward her but staring holes in the floor, Walter said, "About earlier… It was, uh, inappropriate. I-I'm sorry."

"It? What was inappropriate? The speech or…" Paige found she really didn't want him to apologize for kissing her.

But he did.

"Uh, for-for kissing you…like that. It shouldn't have happened." His mouth kicked up at one corner. "I was angry and over-overwrought? Um, emotional. See? I can admit that now. Human progress, right?" His expression was wry as his eyes finally met hers.

In spite of herself she smiled back. "Yes, Walter. Very human of you. But seriously, I'd rather we talk about the things you said before…you know, the, uh kiss." Why was she blushing? It was only a kiss…and not even their first one. Paige cleared her throat.

"I know I should have accepted your apology and left it…"

"No. I can see you had some valid points you've probably needed to make for a while now. Maybe not in that tone, but you had every right to say what you did. And I _did_ assume you were the one to sabotage my relationship with Tim. I based my assumption solely on what you did in Tahoe…"

"I promised I wouldn't interfere after that. And I haven't," Walter replied frowning in confusion and hurt.

"I know. I should have believed you. I'm sorry. And I'm sorry that people have been giving you a hard time since I started dating Tim. I had no idea they were saying those things or I would have told them to leave it alone. You were right. Everyone does tend to excuse my mistakes and their own more than yours. It's not fair. And that stops now. I'll talk to them…"

"There's no need. I am clueless. I do struggle with what's appropriate…"

"You aren't the only one. Do you think it was appropriate for them to try to manipulate you and Tim into being friends? A parent trap? Wow. Like you're children? I didn't appreciate that one myself. I should have said something then. They need to be fair and they _really_ need to mind their own business. No one is blameless. Certainly not me."

"I guess they were trying to help."

"It doesn't make it okay, Walter. If it's wrong for you, it's wrong for everyone. But leaving all that alone for now, I'd really like to talk about what you accused me of doing. All day I've been replaying everything you said about me."

"I shouldn't have…"

"No. You were right about a lot of it. Let me try to explain if I can. The thing is…" Floundering, she couldn't decide how to justify her behavior without revealing what was said when Walter was in space. She pressed the heels of her hands to her eyes for a second trying to decide how to broach the subject.

Paige could tell Walter had moved toward the conference table because he sounded closer when he said, "Can I ask you something first?"

Sure enough, when she glanced up and nodded, he was leaning on the table next to her and he seemed anxious and a little sad. "Did you only say it back because you were trying to get me to pull a lever? Or did you mean it? Even a little? And if you meant it, how could you...be with Tim? How could you make sure I saw you together like that? At the very least, I thought we've always been friends. If you- you knew, why would you do that?"

Astonished, Paige asked, "Wait. You remembered?"

Walter traced an invisible equation with his index finger on the table unable to look at her. "When, uh, when I, when we…kissed. I remembered." He said softly, then closed his eyes and sighed.

Her heart sank. "No wonder you didn't want to talk to me this morning. Oh, wow. Toby told me not to ask you about it because it could be damaging. That's why I never said anything."

"That still doesn't answer my questions." Suddenly Walter's eyes drilled into hers until she looked away.

"You're right. It doesn't. All I can say is, I was so hurt and so tired of being brushed aside for nearly a year..."

"So it was about getting back at me?" He said, his voice full of the pain of betrayal.

"No. At least not entirely. Walter, if you remember the whole conversation, you know that even while admitting how you felt about me you were still coming up with reasons and making excuses why we couldn't and shouldn't be together. You said something about being unavailable emotionally and not being what I need. I'm sorry. I know I didn't handle things well. I wasn't consciously trying to hurt you. I promise. I guess I wanted so badly for you to admit your feelings and fight for me, for _us_. So much for me being the emotionally mature and non manipulative one. Can you forgive me?"

"Paige, I can forgive you anything," Walter replied with a rueful smile. "I love you." He shrugged.

His face blurred as her eyes filled. Sounding choked, she said, "I love you too. I'm a moron."

He chuckled and opened his arms. She stepped into them, burying her face in his shoulder. He grinned into her neck and asked, "Do you think a couple of morons can make things work?"

"I think I'd like to try," she sniffed and hid her wobbly smile against his shirt.


	15. Turn the Paige

**TURN THE PAIGE**

 **AN: I cranked this story out pretty quickly and I didn't have time to edit this as much as I normally do. Please excuse any typos, misspellings or any other crimes against the English language. The family Christmas crazies start today for me, so I was on a deadline to get this out. This one is at the request of lookingforthestars. I hope you enjoy it! And for MetalKyria who wanted to read a more cheerful story than my last one. And for Bicii and pamz and all my other faithful reviewers, your encouragement keeps me typing. Thank you and Merry Christmas!**

 **This is a future fic with a K+ rating.**

"So, you wanna tell me what your problem is?" Toby asked squinting into Walter's face.

"Currently it's you," the Scorpion leader answered, leaning away and scowling at the behaviorist.

The two of them were alone in the garage sitting at the kitchen table trying to unwind after a particularly tricky case. The rest of the team had already left pleading fatigue. Walter had been contemplating his coffee cup absently. Toby was considering his boss intently.

Ignoring the obvious brush off and wading in where angels fear to tread as usual, the shrink said, "You haven't been yourself recently. I don't think it's organic. You are always disgustingly healthy if you don't count fractures, burns and contusions from our more interesting cases. But you've just been off lately. Is there trouble in paradise? Did the little woman cut you off? Too many nights spent on the couch? What gives?"

Sending his chair back with a screech, Walter stood and stalked back to his desk. "Just leave it, Toby," he grumbled as he walked. He slouched into his office chair with a sigh and ran an agitated hand over his face. In spite of himself, he spoke up, "I've been wracking my brain. I just can't figure it out…"

"That's a helluva lot of wracking considering your brain's storage capacity. C'mon and spill. It might help to talk it out."

"I think Paige is going to terminate our relationship," Walter said in a rush, raising anguished eyes to his friend. "I don't know what I've done or how to fix it."

Toby made his way across the room dragging Paige's rolling chair with him before settling beside the other man's desk. A quizzical look was on his face while he propped his feet on the corner and crossed them at the ankles. "Well. That wasn't the answer I was expecting. Why would you think a thing like that? The two of you have been going strong with only a few minor glitches for almost two years now. Did she actually say that? In those words?"

"Twenty months. It's been twenty months."

"Thanks for the clarity, pal. But the exact duration isn't the issue."

"If you'd like I could break it down into weeks and days and even hours and minutes. And, no, the duration isn't the issue other than it's been the longest successful relationship I've ever had. Or at least I assumed it was successful until…" Walter pinched the bridge of his nose.

"Has she actually said she wants to break up with you?"

"Well, no. Not exactly. But her behavior toward me is…different."

"I'm a psychiatrist, not a dentist, but getting information from you is like pulling teeth. When did her behavior toward you change?" Toby raised one eyebrow, waiting.

"It started just after the conversation we had… that was, uh, seventeen days ago."

"Okay. Now we're getting somewhere." Toby smirked. "I can only guess this 'conversation' was the catalyst. Can you elaborate a little more on the context?"

"It was _the_ conversation. You know." When Toby still looked confused, he explained further. "Shortly after Paige and I marked our one year anniversary, you told me to anticipate it."

Toby slapped his forehead knocking his hat askew. "Oh, no. What the hell did you say to her when she posed _that_ question? I told you to be careful! And that your answer would be critical and fraught with possible relationship peril!"

Walter shook his head looking baffled. "I kept waiting, but she never brought it up." He shrugged. "So I did."

Toby's feet left the desk and landed on the floor with a thud and after an exaggerated gasp, he said, "What!? You didn't!"

Offended, the other genius retorted, "Well, why not?! It's a subject that concerns me as much as it does her. And I really do want to know where she sees our relationship going. I just want to make sure she and I have similar ideas concerning the future…"

"You've probably upset some sort of balance in the universe now. But tell me, how did she react and how is she acting differently now? Is she avoiding you? Ignoring calls and texts?"

Blinking in puzzlement as he recalled the details, the genius said, "No. None of that. She acted a little surprised when I asked. And then she was kind of quiet for a while. I didn't think she was going to talk about it at first. She expressed to me that she was a little shocked I was thinking along those lines and she indicated she would need time to consider her answer. Then she, uh, dis-distracted me… I didn't think about it again at the time, but every time I've brought it up since then, she gives me a noncommittal answer and employs the same, um, e-evasive maneuvers."

"Evasive maneuvers?"

Walter flushed and cleared his throat.

Chuckling and nodding knowingly, Toby asked, "So, I'm guessing the physical aspect of the relationship hasn't ceased since 'the conversation' either? I'm not sure where you're seeing a problem. It seems like you're still on the same _Paige_ , if you get my meaning." Toby waggled his eyebrows with a smirk.

Refusing to acknowledge the crude inuendo, Walter stated, "The, uh, distractionary techniques have increased in frequency due to her avoidance of an answer to the question I posed. However, my ability to, um, distract her in return has become a bit more challenging…" He hastened to add, "Not that I'm not up to the challenge in that arena. I've just had to employ some unusual methods lately to get her… completely, uh, _there_. It's like she's sometimes distracted by something else while she's trying to distract me. But aside from that, she has been secretive in other ways too. It's like she's hiding something... or some _one_ else." Walter closed his eyes tightly as if the idea caused him physical pain, before finishing with, "I'm really tempted to hack her phone records or track her cell phone, but I couldn't do that to her. Paige would hate that and if she ever found out, she would dump me for sure."

"In my professional opinion, you probably caught her off guard with your question and she's just not ready to talk about it yet. Paige doesn't strike me as the cheating kind, so I don't think she has a man on the side. My advice? Stop pushing her. She'll tell you when she's ready. Oh, and it might help if you blow her socks off with an amazingly romantic Christmas gift this year." With those words, Toby slapped his boss on the shoulder and headed home to his wife.

Still unconvinced, Walter sat at his desk brooding for several more minutes. He decided he would heed Toby's advice as well as redouble his efforts to be a considerate romantic partner. Perhaps he could avert disaster after all.

XOXOXOXOXOXO

The whole cyclone was gathered around Toby who was pretending to be passed out on the couch by the Christmas tree.

"Get up, idiot!" Happy said obviously amused in contrast to the harshness of her words. "I won't let my kids grow up with a wimp for a father!" She poked her husband hard in the ribs.

"Ow!" he protested, clutching his side, "That's spousal abuse! And it's not every Christmas when a guy finds out his wife's having twins! TWINS?! Leave it to you to get over enthusiastic and decide to have two at one time. You probably thought it would be more efficient, right?"

The expectant father had just opened his gift from his wife. What he thought was a new smart phone turned out to be a framed sonogram photo showing his offspring looking like little beans with tiny arms. But there were unquestionably two. Ever the drama king, Toby's eyes rolled up and he fell back onto the sofa causing the rest of the team members to rush to his side.

For several minutes laughter and congratulations echoed around the garage for the flabbergasted father and delighted mother. And Toby used the opportunity to suggest to Walter that they would need double the paternity and maternity leave because of the new circumstances.

In the minutes during which chaos still reigned, Paige tugged on Walter's arm pulling him around to face her. "I hate to detract from their happy news. I mean, it's their moment, but there's something I need to say to you."

Sure that Paige was going to dump him, dread flooded Walter while the blood drained from his face. "W-what? Right, uh, now? In-in front of everyone?"

"Well this concerns everyone to some degree…"

"But…it's, uh, Christmas. Shouldn't you at least wait…?"

Paige took one of Walter's shaking, clammy hands in hers. "No. I've been waiting to say this for weeks now…"

"Please... I don't want to lose you."

Taking in her boyfriend's distress, the liaison soothed, "Lose me? Where on Earth did you get an idea like that?" And still holding his hand in hers, she pulled a small box out of her sweater pocket and dropped down on one knee with a melodramatic flourish.

Grinning up into his startled face, Paige pressed the box into Walter's outstretched hand as she said, "You asked me a question a few weeks ago and I've done nothing but think about it since then. The only answer I could think up was in the form of a question for you. Walter O'Brien, I love you now. I fully expect to love you every day in my future. And I want to spend every day of that future with you. Will you please make me the happiest woman in the world and marry me?"

Stunned and speechless, Walter's mouth fell open and his legs gave out. He sat down hard on the sofa beside Toby. Paige dropped down on both of her knees and edged toward him searching his wide open eyes for an answer. Or any indication he'd heard. Or a sign of life.

"I think he might have had a stroke," Sylvester said, wringing his hands.

"Walter?" Paige whispered. "Walter?!" She tried a bit louder. "Are you alright?"

The team leader didn't hear much around the roaring in his ears, but he managed to stutter in a stifled croak, "Uh…Y-yes."

"Yes, you're alright? Or yes, you'll marry me?" Paige asked, confused.

Walter swallowed hard and a huge grin spread slowly across his face. "Both!"

And the crowd went wild as Paige launched herself at him and planted a hard kiss on his smiling mouth. No mistletoe required.


	16. Robot Reboot

**ROBOT REBOOT**

 **AN: I love this show, but I almost hated this Christmas episode because it ended SO badly! *sigh* So, this is dedicated to all the bashed and battered Waige shippers like me. I'm SO tired of Terrific Tim winning at every turn. He bullied people like Walter as a kid and he's still on top in every way that counts. It's time for Walter to get a little back, so I wrote this to make myself (and hopefully you too) feel better. Keep the faith. This story is angsty, so beware. I don't know why Walter hasn't gone this direction yet. I would if it was me.**

 **And please review. I need the encouragement and feedback!**

 **Rated K+**

"Walter? Can I talk to you for a minute?" Paige edged into Walter's private work space in the loft with caution. He hadn't been what one might call approachable lately and the tension sizzling between the two of them since Tim's departure didn't help matters.

"I'm in the middle of…"

"I know you're busy, but this is important."

"Okay. Try and make it quick." Walter sighed and set down the motherboard he was fixing and put the soldering iron back on its stand. When he pushed his magnifying goggles onto the top of his head, Paige could see the dark circles under his bloodshot eyes and she noted the tired lines of his shoulders. His shirt was wrinkled and sagging around his frame, highlighting his recent weight loss. His hair was in desperate need of a trim, unkempt and curling wildly around his ears and collar.

"Toby told me…"

Walter interrupted with a derisive snort. "He's chock full of unhelpful advice these days, isn't he? But I don't have time for head-shrinking. I told him I'm fine. You may reiterate that to him." Her boss turned back to his work.

"You are _not_ fine. I mean, look at you. When was the last time you ate? Or had a full night's rest?" Paige touched his shoulder and he subtlely leaned away from her hand, his eyes still trained at the tools atop his worktable.

The genius scratched at the stubble on his jaw absently. "I've been…preoccupied."

"I know. That's the problem. We haven't seen you downstairs for weeks unless there's an active Homeland case…"

"I've been taking private jobs. I find the fewer distractions I have, the more productive I can be. And the extra money benefits the company, so it ultimately benefits everyone. Now if you will excuse me, I have…"

"I will not excuse you. You have taken on too much extra work…"

Turning his head so he could glower at Paige, he stated with quiet sarcasm, "If the surplus workload is too much for you, I can transfer some of the accounting duties to Sylvester. I've heard he's good with numbers."

Fuming, the company liaison's fists clenched as she bit back an angry retort. He was purposely trying to aggravate her in an attempt to make her leave. What she didn't understand was why, so she refused to even engage in an argument until she got some answers.

She took a deep breath, so she could calmly say, "It isn't the work, okay? I'm happy to send invoices and field calls from clients all day long. That's my job. But there will be no benefits for anyone if you make yourself sick in the process."

"Not to worry. All your jobs are safe. I am fulfilling my life's purpose. My only usefulness lies in my ability to advance the greater good through my work. I'm doing what I'm best at; what someone like me is made to do. If you will just let me get back to it…"

"Is that really what you think? That my only concern here is my job? "

"I think that's abundantly clear. You and the rest of the team are right to base my worth solely on my ability to keep you employed. It's logical and the reason you're here after all." Walter reached for the smoldering soldering iron signaling an end to the conversation, but Paige was having none of it and made a grab for the tool. When her hand accidentally came in contact with the heated end, she snatched it back and drew in a sharp gasp through clenched teeth.

Instantly concern melted the indifferent mask of Walter's face as he caught her wrist and surveyed the injury. Still clutching her arm gently, he led her to the sink and flipped on the cold water tap so he could run her burn under the water. The relief was instant. And not just in the small reddened area on her hand, but in seeing emotion, any emotion besides impatience, in the genius next to her. And he was touching her, if not with affection, at least with compassion. It was the first time Paige had seen anything roughly human in the man in quite a while.

Walter left her at the sink and walked to the refrigerator to get her an ice pack. Her hand was still stinging slightly, but she shut the water off and accepted the towel and the cold compress with a soft 'thank you'. And she watched as the shutters fell back into place over his countenance as he turned and strode back to his desk.

"Walter. We aren't done here. Not by a long shot."

Sighing with frustration, he turned back to look at her. "What do you want from me? Hmm? I've had nothing but time on my own since the holidays to think, Paige. Not only did I remember a few things that happened while I was in space, I've also had time to contemplate the last nineteen months of my life and evaluate some things. And I've drawn some key conclusions. I have realized that my initial findings were correct." He set his jaw firmly, stubbornly daring her to ask the question he knew she would.

Rolling her eyes, she complied, "And what findings were those?"

With a smirk that was the closest thing to a smile she'd gotten from him for weeks, he answered, "My experiments with becoming more human have almost without exception been abysmal failures. So, I decided being open was a mistake. People don't seem to like what they encounter when I am. And-and my sister. Sh-she was wrong and I was right to be afraid. Someone like me isn't meant to have close attachments. I'm not equipped. I tried to learn, but my attempts were often met with condescension or contempt or hostility. I was constantly being told I was juvenile and half-baked and wrong. Toby spent months taking supreme delight in telling me exactly how wrong I was after encouraging me to acknowledge my feelings in the first place." The expression fell from his face and he swallowed hard. "Cabe told me he hoped I would feel this-this… one day. And when I did, he told me I was selfish to feel it and I should suppress it and keep it to myself." Almost as an aside to himself, he added, "I don't get why he would wish this on me." Then shaking his head as if to clear it, he continued, "So I decided since I proved my previous hypothesis, I should go back to feeling nothing. Robots might be annoying to others, but they don't…hurt. And when they don't, they are more efficient."

Without her permission, Paige's hand reached toward him, but he stepped back, averting his eyes to a place just beyond her shoulder. "Do you really believe you were better off before?" She rasped the words out around the lump in her throat as her arm fell back to her side.

"It's a fact. I tried an experiment. It failed. End of story. Someone like me…It isn't wise to try. I can be more constructive on my own. I recognize that I was wrong. L-love does exist and it is possible for some people. People like you. Or Megan. Or-or, uh, Tim. But not…"

"So you don't think you deserve to love and be loved?"

Shaking his head, he huffed out a mirthless laugh, "It's not about deserving or not deserving. It's about abilities. Aptitudes. I lack the ability to be a successful romantic companion. I should never have made the attempt. I should stick to where I excel instead."

"So you are unable to love? Is that what you're saying?"

Walter's eyes bored into hers. "Oh, I definitely have the capacity to love. But it's an affliction I should have avoided at all costs, because I'm woefully inadequate to be loved in return. It was better when I didn't feel at all. So that's what I'm endeavoring to do again."

Paige was surprised she didn't hear her heart break audibly. So this was the reason he was working himself to death? No wonder, considering the only feedback Walter had been getting for his efforts was negative. She realized for the last several months, all of it had been. From everyone. Herself included. Her mind scrambled for an argument she could use to refute his logic. "But Happy is a person like you. And she and Toby are going strong. They adore each other."

His lips curled up at one corner in warped imitation of a smile. "Well. She's a notable exception, I guess. Even if I could find a youngish, female, genius behaviorist who could be attracted to an emotionally immature, romantic failure with no verbal filter and no people skills, if she was anything like Toby, I wouldn't be interested. See my dilemma?"

Feeling tears prickle her eyes, but hiding it with a smile, she said, "I like to think anything is possible. What about Ralph? It's not romantic, but he loves you. You know that."

Walter's eyes softened at the mention of her son. "Yes. I think he does. But even he castigated me for my romantic inadequacies." He shrugged, "And he has another father figure in his life now. One that you prefer. One that I think cares for him."

Struggling to find the right words, she stood quietly studying him for a few moments. Paige took a step nearer to him and lifted her hand. Walter dropped his gaze, but didn't move away this time. She ran her fingers lightly through the silky, tangled hair above his ear and allowed them to wander over his scalp then down to his jaw letting her thumb caress his bristly cheek. His eyes drifted shut and he shuddered as he leaned into her touch, drinking it in as if trying to absorb it.

Closing the distance between them, Paige briefly touched her lips to his. "Please don't give up." She murmured against his lips. And as she pulled away, she said, "Things with Tim fell apart a couple of weeks ago. What we had looked good in every possible way, but it was all on the surface. I finally saw that it had no real depth. I gave up on you too soon, so I know I have no right to ask this. You and I have a long way to go and a lot of making up to do, but please have a little faith. I love what I see when you open up. I'm sorry if it didn't seem like it."

Before the words were out, he grabbed her and hugged her tightly to him. That was all the answer she needed.


	17. Multiplication Equals An Addition

**MULTIPLICATION EQUALS AN ADDITION**

 **AN: Total fluff for my fellow Waige shippers. Happy Valentine's Day, all! Hang in there. I think we've finally turned a corner in our battered ship.**

 **Rated K+ for some suggestive stuff.**

'We're all a little weird. And life is a little weird. And when we find someone whose weirdness is compatible with ours, we join up with them and fall into mutually satisfying weirdness – and call it love – true love.' – Robert Fulghum

oXoXoXoXoXo

This could NOT be happening. Not again.

Paige stared at the little pink plus symbol willing it to morph into a minus. How did this happen?!

Well, she knew _exactly_ how it happened.

After nearly two and a half years of foreplay in the form of dancing around each other and lots of steps forward and many, many steps back, _it_ had finally happened… on her desk. And on the bed in the loft. And then against the wall in the shower… Before anything like protection ever crossed either of their minds. Thinking wasn't much of a priority at the time.

She meant to go get a morning after pill. She really did. But the team caught an urgent case early the next morning and she wasn't able to excuse herself for a quick trip to the pharmacy. Then in the usual whirlwind of danger and intrigue, she totally forgot. After all, her brain was still mushy from the culmination of all her fantasies coupled with the sweet fog of euphoria that comes with being completely in love and knowing she was so thoroughly loved in return.

It didn't occur to her again until the next time they had an evening to themselves. Eight days too late. When she mentioned it, Walter quoted the statistical likelihood of pregnancy after three 'encounters' in such a short time frame. Odds were in their favor and they had better things to do, so they carried on with much more interesting activities and put it from their minds. Plus, they'd been a lot more careful from then on.

Not that it made much difference. No matter how conscientious you are after the fact, you still can't unring a bell.

Apparently the _entirety_ of Walter had a 197 IQ, including his gametes. She suppressed a hysterical bubble of laughter at the mental image of his curly-headed, genius swimmers calculating trajectory and the most direct route to her normal, unsuspecting egg. Because here she was, in the bathroom in Walter's loft holding a thin, white piece of plastic with a glaringly obvious pink plus sign on it. Paige suddenly hated pink.

And the panic set in again moments later.

They'd only been officially dating a little over seven weeks. They'd wanted to take it slow. See how things would progress. He said he would need her honest input and guidance on how to be a good partner for her. It was all very sensible.

What they hadn't counted on was their mutual inability to keep their hands to themselves. They had been so frustrated for so long they just couldn't help it. Biology and chemistry overrode all their good intentions. You evidently can't fight science when dating a genius.

And in a little less than two months, not even enough time to settle in and get comfortable as a couple, she was six weeks pregnant. Nothing like adding a bunch of pressure to a brand new relationship, one that was already strange and much more intense and unlike anything she'd ever experienced.

Walter had never mentioned wanting to be a parent. Sure, he was always amazing with Ralph. But her son was half grown and the two of them had so much in common they'd never had trouble relating. It was a small relief that it seemed like her boyfriend showed the most EQ during his limited interactions with children. He seemed more compassionate and patient with kids than adults as a rule.

However Paige had never seen him around a colicky infant, or a toddler in the throws of a tantrum. What about potty training? Would he draw up a schematic diagram? Or a flow chart? Definitely a _flow_ chart.

A giggle escaped before another dark cloud floated over her thoughts. What if this child was a 'normal'? Would the two of them connect as the child grew? Or would history repeat itself? If Walter's normal parents didn't connect with him, would a normal child? That would be devastating for him and the child both.

There was a soft tap on the door.

And she jumped like it was the report from a firearm.

"Paige?" She heard Walter's muffled inquiry, "Are you okay? Cabe just brought us a case. It's time sensitive and we really need to get going."

"Yeah. I'm-I'm fine. I'll be out in a sec." She ran the cold water and splashed it on her face. She carefully wrapped the evidence in tissue, put it back in the box and placed it in her purse. The difficult discussion would have to wait. She couldn't say she was disappointed about that.

xOxOxOxOxOx

The two year old appeared to be trapped. They couldn't get to her without taking out the whole wall behind her and they couldn't do that without risking crushing her or causing sparks. No one knew how she managed to wedge herself into the crevice behind the pipes. The only facts in evidence were 1. they couldn't reach her to pull her out and 2. she was terrified of anyone who approached pushing even further back and curling into herself even tighter.

The old apartment building had faulty gas lines. It probably hadn't been updated since the 1970s. When a pipe blew in the basement and caused an explosion, the child's mother had been injured and her petrified daughter had run away and hidden herself so well the firefighters couldn't find her. The mom was in the ambulance pleading for someone to find her little girl. Paige stayed with the woman trying to calm her and get information about where her daughter might have hidden.

Happy had engineered a device that picked up the girl's specific heat signature. They'd been able to turn off the gas and contain the worst of the fire, but the mechanic was still hesitant to use any power tools because of any residual gas pockets either in the air or the pipes. And the whole building was about to come down.

The only solution was simple. But it was also impossible. Walter would have to coax the child into crawling out on her own and quickly. He and the little girl were the only ones left in the evacuated building that was on the cusp of collapse and even Toby's coaching via the comms was, up to that point, unsuccessful at helping to convince the toddler to come out.

"Ava?" Walter said softly over the groans of walls settling and straining to stay upright. He was trying to sound relaxed. "I know you're scared. I can take you to your mother. Can you trust me to do that?" Nothing. He was afraid the girl might be in shock because she was trembling even in the heat. So the genius changed tactics. "Please, Ava. I'm scared. Do you think it would help me if I had a friend?" The little girl looked up. "But I can't come in there to you. I'm too big for the available space. I have a blanket the firefighters gave me. If you're cold, you could share it with me. Please? I really need your help."

Walter walked out of the structure seconds before it collapsed. He was holding little Ava in his arms and she was adhering to him like she was stuck on with super glue.

As soon as Ava was out safe, her mother was immediately whisked away to the hospital. The paramedics on the scene tried to see to the child, but she would scream any time someone would try to take her away from her protector. So in the end, it was decided Team Scorpion would take her to the hospital and stay with her until she could be reunited with her mother or another relative.

Once he was introduced as Walter's friend, Ava finally submitted to letting Toby take a look at her as long as she was allowed to remain bundled in the Scorpion leader's lap.

The girl's grandmother was on her way from San Diego, but until she arrived the genius was confined by circumstances to the waiting area outside the emergency department where they'd taken her mom. The traumatized child clung to him even as she slept, one dimpled hand clutching a fistful of Walter's shirt, the other up by her tear-streaked face, thumb in her mouth. Her cheek was pressed firmly to the center of his chest.

Paige watched in fascination from a chair across from them as Walter crooned quiet reassurances into the girl's ear and tenderly brushed her soft, baby-fine hair off of her forehead.

Who was this guy? And what did he do with Walter? Where was the man she'd met three years ago? The one with no EQ? The one who hated physical contact? Had the change been so gradual she didn't catch it?

Or was their love the last piece of the puzzle? Maybe being encouraged to grow and change had only gotten him so far. Maybe knowing he was loved in spite and because of his awkward, quirky, weird personality was the push he needed to open up all the way. And she was so blessed to be the one too see it. To be _his_ one. And together to grow their awkward, quirky, weird little family with their love as the center.

He looked up and caught her staring. He gave her a wry smile and shrugged.

Yes. It was going to be just fine.


	18. Audacious Auscultation

**Audacious Auscultation**

 **AN: I'm sorry about this. This is the kind of thing that happens when I'm bored. I'll rate this little drabble K+ for the general population and T for those of you with dirty minds...**

Auscultation: the act of listening, either directly or through a stethoscope or other instrument, especially to sounds made by the body for diagnostic purposes.

"Curiosity has its own reason for existence." – Albert Einstein

oOoOoOoOoOo

The not knowing was killing him.

Plus he was bored. So his mind was already cooking up all kinds of salacious scenarios.

What the hell were they doing up there anyway?

197 practically leapt on Paige when she'd walked through the door that morning. He addressed her as 'friend' with a soft little snort and asked if he could get her to help him with something. And the two of them walked up the stairs to his loft giving each other bashful smiles, exchanging looks like they did in the Pre-Limbo (aka Linda/Timbo) era. All of those actions had previously been thrown _into_ limbo during the subsequent 'Limbo' phase in which Walter kept making pathetic attempts and Paige kept getting annoyed and rebuffing him right and left. But something was definitely different that day when they'd walked upstairs together. Was this perhaps the dawn of a new era?

They'd been in Walt's loft together for twenty-three minutes. And no one had heard a peep out of either of them. Obviously the door was shut and the intercom was off. He should know. He'd already tried the intercom method of snooping.

Well, curiosity didn't kill the cat. Ignorance did. And Doctor Tobias M. Curtis was not about to go down that same path. He kicked off his shoes. If he'd known he would have to do some ninja eavesdropping that day he wouldn't have worn the squeaky ones. And he grabbed his stethoscope out of the bottom drawer of his desk.

Happy stopped him with a look. "What do you think you're doing?"

"Nothing, my angel," Toby intoned, as he crept on stockinged feet toward the metal stairs, "Just a little recon. Someone has to make sure Mom and Dad aren't fighting again."

"Hang on a sec. You may not catch everything." Happy set her project aside and grabbed an empty cup from the kitchen.

"Shouldn't we respect their privacy?" Sylvester asked as he rose from his desk chair in the corner. He gulped and crinkled his nose looking conflicted for a few seconds before quickly stealing after the other two.

"Where's the fun in that, Sly?" The shrink shook his head and threw the mathematician a dubious smirk over his shoulder.

The inquisitive trio slunk up the stairs and tiptoed across the lab. They didn't find Paige and Walter in the main room, but they soon heard their muffled voices coming from the bathroom. Then Toby, Happy and Sly silently pressed a diaphragm of a stethoscope, an empty cup and an ear to the door, jostling a bit for position.

"Ouch! Walter that hurts!"

"Just hold still a minute."

"I think it's too big. It's not going to fit."

"I did the calculations myself. I know it will fit."

"Are you sure your measurements were right?" Paige whined.

"I was as accurate as possible. There might be a slight variance because you weren't here for me to measure precisely. I had to estimate your size based on speculation and averages."

"Well, I don't think it's going to work, Walter. I'm sorry."

"Give me another chance. Just relax and try to open up a bit wider for me. That's it."

"Ow! Stop!"

"Sorry. S-sorry. I think my angle is wrong. Maybe it would work better if you would try to put it in yourself? You did say we were the kind of friends who would do anything for each other, right?" A note of pleading entered Walter's voice.

"Okay. Okay. I'll try it. Just give me some more of that lubricating stuff."

They could hear a loud sigh and grunt of discomfort, then Paige said, "Is it all the way in?" and Walter's triumphant, "Yes! It's in!"

That was all they could stand to hear before they looked at each other with disgust and scurried away from the door. Toby slipped in his socks and while he was pin wheeling trying to regain his balance, he managed to knock the other two fleeing geniuses off balance too. The three of them fell with a crash in a heap by the bathroom door. Which popped open suddenly.

Paige and Walter emerged surprisingly fully clothed and glared at the pile of gutter-minded eavesdroppers on the floor.

"Oh, hi," Toby attempted sheepishly from his prone position before Paige interrupted with, "What do you think you're doing?"

As the nosy trio tried to disentangle themselves, Happy spoke up, "We could ask the two of you the same thing. It is business hours, you know."

Walter frowned and looked at the mechanic, his expression as baffled as it was irritated. "Paige was doing me a favor and trying out the new spy equipment Homeland got us. They want us to beta test these contact lenses that take pictures or video when you blink. I think the size is right. I just have to tweak the thickness a little for comfort. And I also think the addition of lots of lubrication eases the insertion process. What did you think we were doing?"

When it dawned on Paige what the others were thinking, her mouth dropped open and her face was flaming as the spying troop of geniuses collapsed back down on the floor roaring with laughter.


	19. Seeing Red

**Seeing Red**

 **AN: I threw this story together in a hurry, so I didn't do a lot of editing. Excuse any abuse to the English language, please.**

It couldn't be true. No way. Not really.

But, heaven help her, it felt true. If one of her deepest fears was losing Walter to another woman, then the most pressing problem was why was she still in an increasingly distant long-distance relationship? One that should have been perfect. One that looked perfect on the surface. But underneath it was, well …kind of boring. Like something very important was missing. She just didn't want to think too hard about what that something might be.

The ergot must have affected her differently. That's all. Either that or her amygdala was being very disloyal to her incredibly nice boyfriend.

Paige flipped through a magazine at the salon waiting for her usual hair dresser to finish with his previous appointment, the acidic smell of dyes and other chemicals assailing her nose and making it twitch. She felt like she needed a change, wanted a different look for some reason, but she couldn't find a style that appealed to her in the glossy pages of the magazine in her lap. And it didn't help that all her focus was elsewhere.

It was uncomfortably warm in the room making her shirt stick to her back where she came in contact with the vinyl and chrome chair. Or was it her thoughts making her too warm?

What woman in her right mind would choose Walter over Tim? She'd have to be crazy, wouldn't she? Walter was difficult, weird, arrogant, rude, and he always felt the need to be right all the time. Except now she understood his motives.

And he was focusing so hard trying to improve himself. She was finding it way too… cute. He was growing by leaps and bounds lately. He was so much happier. People were starting to like him. Soon any woman would adore him and be lucky to have him. Because he would be able to love completely in return. He wouldn't need Paige anymore. She wouldn't be the only 'normal' who was different toward him. Why did that thought fill her with such loneliness and dread? Surely it was just because she'd be working herself out of a job.

"Ms. Dineen? Antoine is ready for you now."

Paige dropped the magazine on the cheap IKEA coffee table amongst the stack of others and followed the girl with the bright pink, spiky hair; she thought her name was Pixie or something, listening with half an ear as she smacked her gum and asked if Paige was just there for a trim or if she wanted a shampoo and blow dry too. They wended their way between the sinks and past the bank of dryers currently occupied by gossipy old ladies sporting heads liberally dotted with aluminum foil squares and finally they meandered toward the back corner and Antoine's station. The liaison still couldn't decide exactly what she wanted to do with her hair. She just knew she wanted something different. Something that would lift her spirits a bit. Make her feel gorgeous.

Giving Pixie a distracted smile, she answered a bit belatedly, "I'm not entirely sure what I want yet, but I have time to do the works today. I'll start with a wash if you don't mind."

Paige actually had plenty of time.

It was Saturday and her son and his lab partner were at the garage with Walter. They were all working on a science project together. The boys decided they wanted to design and build a pair of stunt flying drones that could dog fight in the air. When Ralph informed her they needed to work on them at the garage, he spared her most of the technical jargon, but explained to her they didn't have the essential materials or tools at home and they didn't have the room to do test flights either.

She'd had to prompt Ralph to ask permission first. She reminded him that he couldn't just assume that Walter was free or that he wouldn't mind both of the boys hanging around his home over the course of several evenings and on one whole Saturday. What if he was busy? Or he wanted some time alone? Or had a date? Why did that thought make her a little sick?

But Paige should have known better. Walter not only agreed immediately, but with much enthusiasm. And she knew he'd thrown in way too much money on the project while assuring her the boys were mostly using spare parts.

The last few evenings after work while the kids tinkered with their drones under Walter's supervision, Paige had volunteered to provide dinner for them. It was the least she could do when the man was spending so much of his time and his own money on her child. And she would be lying if she said she wasn't enjoying the time spent with her boss after hours. It felt solid. And safe. And intimate… like a family. They were together even more now than when she was helping him to apologize to everyone he might have offended at one time or other. Recently she'd been missing more and more Skype calls with Tim trying to convince herself it was because of Ralph's assignment.

She tried to relax as the warm spray massaged her scalp. Ralph did his best to respect her decision to be with Tim. He really did. He made an effort to relate to the former SEAL for her sake. But he was a twelve year-old and she could read him like a book, at least regarding this subject. And he couldn't be more obvious if he wrote his preference on his forehead. He never said it out loud directly to her, but it was no secret the boy really wanted Walter to be his dad.

The previous night, she'd been cleaning up after dinner and Walter went upstairs to look for his fusion splicer. The boys were standing over by Happy's workstation when Paige overheard Lukas gush to Ralph, "Your dad is SO cool! He knows everything about the fiber optics we want to use!"

It really hurt her feelings to hear her son answer in a small voice, "Oh, uh, Walter's not my father."

The other boy looked confused. "Oh, it seems like it. I thought…"

Before he could finish, Ralph interrupted, "My biological father lives in Maine. But I _wish_ Walter was my dad."

Using the logic of tween-age boys, Lukas shrugged and said, trying in his own way to be reassuring, "Maybe your mom will marry Walter. Then he could be your stepdad."

Her son was quiet for a few seconds then he mumbled dejectedly, "My mom doesn't like Walter like that. She's with someone else. My Uncle Toby says they're better off as friends."

If her heart wasn't twisting from the sad note in Ralph's tone, she might have called Toby and grilled him. When exactly had the shrink said that to her son? And why was she so upset by it? It was the truth. She agreed with his assessment, didn't she? Paige had firmly friend zoned Walter a few weeks ago. Sure, they were 'special friends', but that's all she wanted, right?

Pixie had to tap her shoulder to get her attention. "Earth to Ms. Dineen!" She said grinning as she squeezed Paige's hair out and wrapped it in a turban. "Are you in there?"

Paige huffed out a little laugh. "Sorry. I was miles away."

The girl led her to Antoine's chair. She sat and was twirled around to face the mirror.

"How can I make you beautiful today, Paige?" Antoine said in lieu of a normal greeting, as he smiled warmly at her. He deftly undid the towel around her head and he snapped a cape and draped it about her shoulders. As he began combing her hair out with a wide toothed comb, he met the liaison's gaze in the mirror eyebrows raised, waiting.

The crimson color of the cape was the same hue as the shirt Walter had been wearing in the seed vault that day. She _loved_ that particular color on him. He was wearing that shirt when she was hallucinating. When she saw him kiss…

"I want to keep the length. But I think I'd like to go red. Could we maybe try soft, red waves?"


	20. Second Dances and Second Chances

**SECOND DANCES AND SECOND CHANCES**

 **AN: This story is for pamz. This was her original brain child, but she didn't have time to write it with her two WIPs clamoring for attention. (If you haven't read them, I highly recommend them) So she let me play with it. Thanks, friend. I hope it meets your expectations. **

**This is an alternate ending fic for "Don't Burst My Bubble". It's what all the Waige shippers wish would happen, darn it! It has a K+ rating and a high fluff warning.**

"Ask her," Ralph hissed.

"Hmm?" A preoccupied Walter stared down at the tablet on his desk, fully concentrating on tweaking the algorithm for the bone marrow match probabilities. His thoughts were miles away.

Ralph poked him in the bicep. "Now's your chance. _Ask her_."

The older genius blinked up at the boy rubbing at his arm with a frown of puzzlement on his face. "Ask who? What?"

Ralph rolled his eyes in the usual style of preteens and gave his favorite role model a look of exaggerated exasperation. Eyes wide and speaking slowly as if the person he was addressing was particularly dense, he said, "This is supposed to be a dance. You should try _dancing_ ," Then he continued in a stage whisper while his gaze darted toward the company shrink who was sporting a pair of long, lavender gloves and twirling with Sylvester, his attention safely elsewhere. "Dance. With. My. Mom."

The boy added a nudge with his elbow and jerked his chin toward the area of the garage where Paige was slowly circling with Cabe.

Finally catching on, Walter ducked his head, focused on his tablet again and mumbled, "Oh, uh… she-she's already dancing. With-with Cabe." And he added a bit petulantly, "Happy's not dancing either."

Narrowing his eyes, Ralph shoved at the man's shoulder again. Determination liberally limning his features, he stated, "When this song is over, I'm going to ask Happy to dance with me. You can ask my mom then."

Walter colored a little when he replied, "It's not like that. She doesn't want to dance with me. We are caring friends now. I want to give her space. I don't want to intrude…"

"The rationalizations won't fly, you know. They aren't based in logic. Cabe is a caring friend too. _He's_ not afraid to dance with her…"

Scowling vaguely at his computer, Walter muttered, "I'm not afraid. I'm just not much of a dancer. That's all."

The boy scoffed at that, "Well it just so happens my mom is an expert. I'm sure she can teach you. She taught me. Just ask her." Then pulling out the biggest weapon in his arsenal, he added, "For me?"

Emitting a long-suffering sigh and dropping his forehead into his palm, it was a minute before Walter reluctantly got up from his desk and dragged his feet, trying and failing to look casual, toward where the others were dancing. He heard a soft 'yes!' from behind him as Ralph placed both hands on his mentor's back and gave him a little push toward the unsuspecting woman.

The last notes of the song reverberated through the garage and floated away. And the genius with a 197 IQ stood awkwardly beside Paige and Cabe tongue tied and frozen. Why couldn't he say 'no' to that kid? It would make his life a whole lot easier.

Cabe's mouth kicked up at the corner and he raised one eyebrow in expectation. Paige gave him a questioning look.

Walter's eyes cut to the side where he saw Ralph asking Happy for the next dance. The mechanic accepted with a grin and they started toward the other dancers. Ralph silently mouthed, " _Go on_ ," and nodded vigorously at him.

Walter cleared his throat and rubbed at the back of his neck. "Your, uh, s-son… Well, he told me… He said I, uh, should be dancing instead of working. So, I was wondering if-if…"

Having pity, Cabe said, "I'm sure you aren't wanting to cut in and take me on as a partner, so I'll give you the opportunity to crush Paige's toes for a while."

Her eyes were on Walter's and her answering smile was indulgent. "Cabe, you are a lovely dancer. My feet are just fine. But I already know Walter won't tread on my toes, so I think I can take my chances. He's actually not a bad dancer. He automatically calculates the beats per minute and everything."

The tempo of the next song was a lot faster and Walter's nervousness increased along with it. At a loss, he said, "I-I don't know how to dance like this." He looked over at the way Toby was dancing. He closely resembled a frog in a blender. Surprisingly, Sly's movements were a lot more coordinated and smooth.

Paige touched his arm and he jumped. When had she moved that close?

"Relax, Walter. I won't make you." She smiled up at him, but her eyes were clouded with the earlier sadness. She started to turn away.

He couldn't stand the dejected slump of her shoulders, so he reached out and grabbed her wrist. "No. Uh, could you show me?"

She quirked an eyebrow at him. "Are you sure?"

Well, no. He'd never been more unsure, but he couldn't stand to see her disappointed. And Ralph was glaring at him as he and Happy gyrated crazily to the beat of the song. He concluded it was worth the embarrassment.

"I'm sure. Can you teach me?"

Paige's smile was genuine this time and just a touch amused. She placed her hands on his waist and said, "Well, first you have to loosen up. Feel the music and just move to it."

That instruction made very little sense to him. In order to 'feel' the music, the volume would have to be increased exponentially so the sound waves would make stronger vibrations. But he wasn't about to complain, because Paige's hands were on him. He could feel their warmth through his shirt. So he shuffled a bit from side to side, swinging his arms in a semi-controlled fashion.

Snickering a little bit to herself, Paige let go and began to move too. Walter was disappointed at the loss of contact, but he soon became mesmerized by her movements. Her dancing was lithe and almost fluid and… sexy. Oh, boy. Walter felt a little disloyal when that thought crossed his mind. After all, they'd decided to just be special friends. But he was still _so_ in love with her. He couldn't tear his gaze away.

Flushing under his admiring look, Paige's eyes locked on his and twinkled up at him. And there it was. He could actually see it. She was having fun. And he'd helped her have fun. Took her mind off of being sad. Distraction was a useful tool just like the article on friendship said. More progress. Good for him. Ralph flashed him a discreet thumbs up from across the room.

So he started having fun too. He felt the grin stretch across his face. He couldn't help it. He even started to mimic a few of Paige's movements. That seemed to delight her and she laughed up at him. "That's actually pretty good, Walter."

Giving her a fake offended look, he replied, "Don't sound so surprised." Then they both laughed. Together. As if no one else was around.

The fast song ended abruptly and the music soon morphed into another slow song. After a moment's hesitation, she placed a hand on his shoulder; he placed one of his on the small of her back exactly the way she taught him over two years ago. They clasped their free hands together.

And as they swayed the rest of the world dropped away. He felt intoxicated by her nearness and her touch. He breathed her in, indulging his senses the way he'd wanted to do for months.

Walter found himself exerting a bit of pressure on her back to draw her even closer. Wanting more contact. More closeness. Craving more of her scent. More of her body heat. Before long they were pressed together as close as two people can be and still be decent. Her hand crept up his neck and threaded through the short hair at his nape causing him to shiver a little. His eyes slowly slipped shut and his arm twined all the way around her. Their clasped hands were curled together against his chest right over his pounding heart. Caught up in a haze of heady euphoria, they drifted together long after the song ended.

Until they were jarred rudely back to reality as Toby tripped when Sly sent him into another spin and he slammed into them from the side.

Just like that the spell was broken.

Unable to make eye contact, Walter dropped his arms and stepped back. Not knowing what to say, he started to turn and walk back to his desk.

But Paige's voice caught him. Sounding a little dazed and breathless, she said, "Thank you for the dance, Walter."

Turning back around, his eyes drifted over her beautiful, flushed face. Walter O'Brien had never been more sincere in his life when he murmured, "It was my pleasure."


	21. Explaining the Inexplicable

**EXPLAINING THE INEXPLICABLE**

 **AN: Just a _very_ short little drabble because while I'm still trying to process all my emotions about the episode last night and condense and make them into a coherent story, this conversation kept running through my head. **

**I was going to flesh it out, but I think I'd rather the readers guess who's talking to whom and what they are talking about. Just for funzies because the waige fans can certainly use a smile today.**

"You're mad at me. I can tell you're mad at me."

"I'm not mad as much as… frustrated. Maybe a little disappointed."

"Why? What did I do?"

"You were a tad insensitive."

"What? When? You mean because our clients insisted on being home by nine last night?"

"I know you couldn't understand the reason, but you didn't have to treat it with so much contempt."

"But I don't get it. It's completely ludicrous."

"To you. We've talked about this. Not everyone sees things the way you do."

"I just asked for an explanation. I was trying to comprehend the urgency. It didn't seem rational."

"First of all, the _way_ you asked them to explain came off as patronizing. Then you made fun of the reason they gave."

"I didn't make fun so much as point out the lack of logic. And I'm right. I know I'm right."

"We've also talked about your need to be right all the time isn't the most important thing."

"But why would anyone be so emotionally invested in a television program? Not even a documentary about the environment or world hunger or any real issues. The characters are fictional and completely unrelated to them. They aren't relevant to the viewers' health, safety or well-being. It makes no sense. Particularly if the fans lose sleep and keep feeling devastated for days after it airs. It's completely irrational."

"Just because you can't see the importance…"

"It's not reality. I just don't get it."

"It's an escape from reality. They empathize with the characters and it's a way to have adventures without being in any actual danger. They have experiences _through_ them."

"You mean like living vicariously?"

"Exactly."

"Nope. I still don't get it."


	22. Paternity by Proxy - Dad by Design

**PATERNITY BY PROXY – DAD BY DESIGN**

 **AN: The last episode was so heart wrenching and mine just broke for Walter but especially for Ralph. Then I was too keyed up to write yesterday because of the _TV Line_ article then the promo. I needed to get something out or forget how. SO, here it is. This is a little established Waige+Ralph mega fluff, so sweet it'll send you to the dentist with a tooth ache. **

**Rated K.**

The previous night's experiment was a resounding success in numerous ways. He concluded staying the night at Paige's condo had a great many perks. Aside from getting to make love more than once before they had to go their separate ways, he was able to sleep next to her and cuddle her close throughout the night. Something he'd never wanted with anyone else. The idea of being that vulnerable with anyone aside from Paige was always repulsive to him before. And to wake up and see her first, before anything else, made him indescribably happy like he was starting off his day in just the perfect way.

But this kind of thing had never occurred to Walter. It would certainly take some adjustment on his part.

He'd left the bathroom door ajar while he was getting ready for the day. He'd never had to consider it before, but when Ralph tapped a knuckle twice on the door, then let himself in, the lack of privacy crossed his mind for the first time.

It wasn't like Walter really minded. In fact, he actually thought it odd that he wasn't uncomfortable in the slightest. It just felt… different and kind of companionable when the young genius, still clad in his pajama bottoms and t-shirt, boosted himself up to sit on the counter and observed him going through his morning routine.

Walter had just gotten out of the shower a few minutes prior, his feet and chest were bare and his hair was wet. The towel he'd used to dry off was now tossed casually around his neck. He supposed it was a fortuitous thing he'd already put on his pants.

Neither one said a word for a bit while Walter brushed his teeth then wiped the steam off the mirror using his towel. When he began to lather his face up for a shave, Ralph picked up the shaving cream, squirted a little dab on his fingers and sniffed at the foam absently.

"Do you have to shave your face every day?" The boy finally asked, breaking the easy silence for the first time.

"I do," Walter answered as he passed the razor down one cheek cutting a path through the white and producing a streak of smooth skin. He swirled the razor in the sinkful of warm water, wiped it on the towel and continued, "In fact, I could probably stand to shave twice a day. I have a lot of beard stubble by evening."

Ralph swiped his fingers along his own jawline, leaving a trail of soap in a loose imitation of Walter's earlier actions. "Is it like that for everyone?"

"Well, all human hair grows at approximately the same rate. About 1.25 centimeters per month. So that's roughly four tenths of a millimeter per day. That's average for most people, but I think mine is more obvious because it's darker. You will have the same problem. Your beard will probably be dark and since your skin is a lighter tone than mine, it will likely show up even more."

The boy twisted his upper body around and peered over one shoulder at the mirror, craning his neck to examine the area under his nose closely. "I think I may need to start shaving soon. Or do you think I should grow a mustache? In the book Toby loaned me, I read that facial hair appears on the top lip first."

Walter bit his own lip to keep it from twitching in amusement. He was finding this whole conversation a bit too… cute. A word he'd _never_ used before. "It won't be long now. But perhaps you should wait until your voice changes? Before you make a decision on the mustache, that is." His eyes met Ralph's in the mirror and the older genius winked.

"Would you show me how to shave? I'm a novice and I wouldn't want to cut myself."

Ralph slid off the counter and stood beside Walter looking up at him with enthusiastic anticipation. The older genius grinned indulgently and nodded. "You may not be so excited after the first thousand times or so."

A smiling, teary-eyed Paige sat on the end of the bed, the task of putting on her shoes momentarily forgotten. The thought never entered her head before that day, but Ralph had probably never watched a man shave in his life. Letting a boyfriend stay all night was a first for her since Drew left when Ralph was two. She'd been apprehensive about letting Walter stay over too. She didn't want Ralph to count on the presence of anyone else in their home until she was sure whoever it was would stick around for the duration. But Walter had proven himself in every other way in the last four months since they'd been dating officially and in reality longer than that during his relationship with her son. Their mutual admiration and love actually started long before hers and Walter's evolved.

Listening to her boys left her heart so full the love was spilling over into tears. The domesticity of the scene and the absolute trust Ralph had in Walter was touching, but the fact her son was able to open up at all was a miracle in years past she sometimes wondered if she'd ever see.

And she owed all of it to the amazing man now patiently and affectionately explaining a purely male ritual to her son.

With love. Just like a Dad.


	23. Smooth Operator Or Not

**SMOOTH OPERATOR... Or Not**

 **AN: *SPOILER WARNING* for the next episode (Maroon 8) based on the sneak peeks. I'm still squealing over how cute Walter is in the bonus clip! Waige is going to be SO awkward and amazing!**

 **This story is rated K+ for a little language.**

OXOXOXOXOXO

"We are all fools in love." – Jane Austen 'Pride and Prejudice'

Walter watched Paige approach out of the corner of his eye. He could feel his pulse and respirations increasing, so he tried taking a calming breath to relax. He could barely suppress a stupid grin or the urge to lope up to her and hug her tightly to him. This love stuff was ridiculously enormous. He didn't have the adequate capacity to contain it all inside, so it frequently spilled over on its own without his permission.

"Hey, Walter," Her voice was stolen a little by the balmy breeze, but he was the one blown away. Simply hearing her say his name sent a thrill straight through him.

Then he looked up at her. How was he ever expected to act rationally again? It was impossible. He could feel his IQ decreasing and his expression change as his eyes drank her in. Love drunk. Besotted. Idiotically enraptured. Those words made sense to him now and that's how he knew he must appear. But he couldn't be bothered to care.

Walter cleared his throat and answered sub-intelligently, "H-hey, uh, Paige."

She sat beside him in another one of the seats out of the plane's tail section where he was working on a makeshift booster for the radio signal using broken pieces of metal and bits of copper wires. "You missed dinner, so I brought you some. Take a wild guess what's on the menu."

They shared an amused look. "You might have heard I'm pretty smart. I'd say fish and fruit?"

"Wow. You _are_ smart!" Paige smiled at him and handed over a portion wrapped in a banana leaf. He felt desperate to kiss her, but they were on the beach in full view of her son who was at the signal fire with the others. He and Ralph had forged an easy peace and the boy seemed okay with him dating his mother. However he was 'grossed out' by any overt display of affection and he didn't mind loudly expressing his dislike. Walter didn't want to test Ralph's patience. Especially not at this juncture.

So he settled for muttering his thanks and pressing his lips lingeringly to the fine hair at her temple. And he tried distracting himself with his meal instead.

As he ate his dinner and drank from the shared bottle of water, he noticed her looking at him sidelong. She would take a breath and open her mouth as if she wanted to say something, then she would fall silent again.

"Is something on your mind?" He asked around a mouthful of mango.

Paige picked at the chipped polish on her nails. "Yes. I just don't know how to bring it up."

"You can tell me anything, Paige. You know that. I'm trustworthy."

"I know I can trust you. It's not that…" she gave him a little half smile. He lost his appetite because his insides promptly turned all jittery and he momentarily forgot what they were talking about. He shook his head to clear it.

"I was just wondering if you could do something for me?"

"Absolutely anything within my abilities. Name it."

Paige's eyes went all soft and drifted down to stare at his lips for a moment. She sounded a little breathless when she replied, "Could you maybe… tone it down a little? Just in front of the others?"

Wait. What?

Walter frowned in confusion. "Tone what down?"

She bit her lip and turned her gaze toward the incoming tide for a few seconds. "I know this is all new for us. But we really need to focus on getting off the island safely right now. Everyone is scared …and your random… gushing about our feelings? It's getting a little irritating for them."

"I guess it's only okay for Toby to talk about Happy...," he groused.

She wrapped her arms around herself. And something disturbing occurred to him.

"I'm embarrassing you?" The thought made him cringe.

"Sometimes. I don't know. Just a bit, maybe. It's okay. As I said, this is new…"

Walter interrupted, "I'm doing this all wrong. I _knew_ I'd be bad at this. I have no prior experience…" A strange ache constricted his chest.

Paige took his hand and shook her head. "No. No, Walter. You are _not_ bad at this. You are incredibly sweet. I never thought… But we could really use that big brain of yours concentrating on a solution for us now."

He linked his fingers with hers; needing to be joined with her in some way, suddenly and illogically afraid she would disappear. "I have had some trouble staying on task lately. You'll have to instruct me on how I should proceed. You've been in love before and you react normally to emotional stimuli anyway. I don't know how to do this correctly. Tell me what to do."

She leaned in close to him and rested her cheek against his shoulder. "I have been in love before, but not like this. It was never this overwhelming before. Don't forget I'm feeling it too."

That statement abruptly elevated his mood making him feel nearly giddy. Was it possible being in love would eventually require him to take mood stabilizing medication?

"I was so young with Drew," he stiffened slightly at the mention of her ex and she rolled her eyes at him before leaning fully against him across the tattered armrest. He slipped his arm around her. "It turned out, I was in love with him and he was also in love… with himself. As long as I frequently stroked his ego and told him how wonderful he was and didn't require anything too hard from him, he was fine. Then I got pregnant and we started having financial issues, so he 'travelled with the team' more often. Which I found out later translated to him finding other women willing to stroke his ego among other things. Then we started to believe Ralph had learning disabilities because he wasn't talking. So he bailed on us. The truth about our 'love' sunk in pretty quickly after that."

As soon as they got back to civilization, he was going to erase that asshole from existence. Well, probably not. It would cause difficulties for Ralph. But it sure was tempting. Instead of voicing his thoughts, Walter murmured, "I'm sorry."

"Ancient history." Paige shrugged, "The point is, this is all very new to me too."

"What about Tim?" Walter inquired in a small voice. He felt compelled to ask even though he wasn't sure he wanted to know.

She snickered softly. "You're kidding, right? I was never in love with Tim. He was my lame attempt to get over you. I mean, why did you date Linda?"

It was his turn to chuckle. "An experiment. To see if I could successfully date a normal."

"We obviously belong together. What a couple of morons." He could hear the smirk in her voice.

"Agreed." They sat for a few minutes in silence watching the sun as it started to sink further below the horizon. It painted the rippling water a vibrant orange and turned her hair golden where it draped across his arm. He felt the steady drumbeat of desire beginning low in his abdomen. Walter had to do something to distract himself or he would be tempted into doing something inadvisable. "Will you indicate to me when I need to 'tone it down' in the future? Maybe we can come up with a signal?"

"I could start humming? Would that work?"

"Okay."

"Oh, and Walter? For the record, when we're in private? You can be as overboard and cheesy as you want. I kinda like it then. And I love _you_ all the time. Got it?"

He couldn't contain it another second. Walter lifted her chin and kissed her hard on the mouth.

Paige pulled away before things could get too out of hand. She hummed 'Dem Bones' for a few seconds then she gave him a reluctant grimace, cut her eyes toward the fire and whispered, "We have an audience, remember."

Walter sat back and sighed, picked up her hand and stroked her palm absently with his fingertips. She shivered and murmured, "There's a really good reason for you to focus on how to get us off this island."

He raised his eyebrows, and asked, "What's that?"

"I want to be _alone_ with you."

It was his turn to shiver with anticipation… and a healthy dose of newly restored determination.


	24. Diner With a Convenient Walt-In Closet

**DINER WITH A CONVENIENT WALT-IN CLOSET**

 **AN: I know I'm coming late to the party, but I hope it's not too late for one more closet story.**

 **This story isn't actual smut, but it might flirt with the idea a little so beware if that isn't your thing.**

Paige told him she had an idea.

Okay. He trusted her.

With his mind still reeling trying to process what was said on the dance floor, Walter stumbled after her blindly when she grabbed his hand and led him toward the backdoor of Kovelsky's. His feet were made clumsy by his preoccupation with her words, so he nearly ran into her when she stopped just inside the kitchen door and whirled to face him with a look he couldn't define on her face. All he knew was that particular smile made his heart thump erratically in his chest and caused an odd fluttering sensation in his stomach.

He felt like he was radiating heat too as he stared at her wide-eyed with anticipation. A barrage of thoughts wholly flooded him as if his firewall was finally disabled and a torrent file downloaded all at once. ' _Paige LOVES me. Not as a co-worker/colleague. Not as a special friend. She loves ME like I love her_.'

Oh, boy.

Using the hand she still held, Paige tugged Walter close. Her features were blurred by her proximity and when she whispered his name it was muted by a persistent buzzing in his ears. His lips parted as his gaze dropped to her mouth, his inability to catch an adequate breath making him light-headed. He grasped her by the waist to steady himself.

If kissing was the idea she mentioned, it was one of her more brilliant notions and he was one hundred percent on board. When she moved closer and a kiss seemed like an inevitable eventuality, his eyes drifted shut, fingers curling reflexively into the fabric of her dress. The same dress that clung to and accentuated her curves, making an already stunning Paige even more tempting and him even more nervous.

"That's great, Ray! Can you show me?" Ralph's voice piped up from the other side of the kitchen doors.

Suddenly, Walter found himself holding onto thin air. Blinking in confusion, his body frozen in place, he tracked Paige with his eyes. She was muttering to herself about privacy while opening and shutting random doors. One led to the hall, another to the dining room. Those options were dismissed in turn. The walk-in refrigerator emitted a chilly fog as she rapidly opened and shut it again. Tsking in aggravation, she stalked up to a storage closet, yanked the door open and peered inside.

"This'll do," she said, her eyes darting back and forth as she beckoned him to come to her with an impatient gesture. Still dazed from the enormity of his earlier realization and the almost kiss, he joined her without hesitation. It briefly occurred to him to ask why she wanted him to follow her into a utility closet. But he chose to comply without question, a wide, witless grin plastered across his face, knowing he would follow her absolutely anywhere she wanted to go. _She_ was in love with _him_! He had no clue how it happened, but she told him she was. And he wasn't about to question it either. So in he went.

Paige shut the door behind them. As the darkness shrouded them, Walter had about a half second to acknowledge the dusty, damp smell mixed with the scent of pine cleaner before she launched herself toward him, clutching at his lapels. The momentum pushed his back against the far wall and a small 'oof' noise puffed out of his mouth on impact.

Once her lips found his, all concern about their surroundings quickly vanished. In contrast to her hasty grabbing of his jacket, the kiss was fleeting and almost hesitant at first, a soft caress as if finding her way or asking permission. But just like chlorine trifluoride, his body's reaction to even the smallest ignition source from her was vigorous to the point of explosive. A bolt of pure lust shot straight through him at the contact.

Paige must have been affected similarly, because while his tongue eagerly breached her lips seeking then stroking over hers, she let out a muffled whimper and her hands began to roam. They blazed a trail from his chest to the back of his neck where her fingers tunneled through his hair, every touch causing a thrill to course through him.

The air temperature in the confined space soon began to skyrocket due to their increased respirations and heightened blood pressure. Not to mention their combined body heat was close to stifling. It was so kind of Paige to help. She always knew what to do in these types of situations. Walter uttered a frustrated growl when her lips left his temporarily, but he sighed in relief moments later when she pushed his jacket off his shoulders and loosed and removed his tie.

But he was throbbing with need, the intensity of which surprised him. Heat or not, he wanted to feel her against him, so his arms closed around her and he pulled her back, searching out her mouth and making a guttural sound of satisfaction when he felt the sensation of her body fitted tightly to his again. Walter brushed one hand through her hair, down her neck and over her smooth, bare shoulder, pushing the strap of her dress down her arm. His mind was instantly consumed with images of her dress sagging on that side to expose her breast. Did he dare touch her the way he was aching to? He groaned as he cupped her jaw instead, thumbs stroking her neck as he tried to bring her mouth back to his.

He'd hardly noticed her nimble fingers continuing to undress his upper half until they played up the center of his chest and curled around the collar of his completely unbuttoned shirt.

The door burst open.

The first thing he heard was, "I guess Paige is back on the team."

Walter was momentarily stunned and dazzled by the bright lights, but caught on quickly as Paige began adjusting her dress. That's when he started frantically buttoning his shirt. He could have done without the embarrassment and annoyance of the team's intrusion.

He belatedly tried to conceal the evidence of his obvious enthusiasm for the interlude with Paige, but it was more difficult to hide his awkward, silly grin of satisfaction as Happy threw him a knowing smirk before she walked away.

Walter barely had a moment to think before Paige tugged him to her again, her lips finding his and his hands instinctively catching her and pressing her ever closer. In a somewhat coordinated effort, the two of them fumbled the door closed.

Blissfully alone in the warm darkness once more.

After a few more minutes of frenzied kisses and exploring hands, he tentatively dipped his fingertips inside the now gaping top of her dress teasing her lightly, asking a silent question. A pleading sound escaped her. She caught his bottom lip between her teeth, arched her back and pushed her heated, silken skin against his palm. He took that as a 'yes'. He continued his quest, loving the feel of her and her blatant enjoyment of his touch.

Too soon unwanted thoughts began incessantly nagging at him interfering and threatening to ruin his pleasure in his new experiences with Paige. Their clamor only got louder the more he tried to ignore them. They needed to pack and get ready to go. They had a plane to catch. Did he want his first time being intimate with the woman he loved to happen in a dirty closet against a wall? And having to rush? What if Ralph came looking for them? It was the last thought that finally sobered him and made him push her gently away before things could go further.

He chuckled when Paige whined and tried to pull him back.

"Paige. Paige, we have to stop now." He held her at arms length and enumerated all the reasons.

Walter could see her pout even in the dim confines of the closet. "I guess you're right," she agreed grudgingly, "but you have to promise we'll finish what we started."

Unable to resist her, he pressed one last kiss to her cheek and hugging her to him he whispered against her ear, "Oh, I promise. The minute we're alone at the resort in Tahiti, I'm at your disposal."

"Hmm," she hummed. He could hear the smile in her voice when she answered, "Sounds perfect. I'll hold you to that."

"You know I only state facts. And the fact is, I love you and I want to be with you at the earliest opportunity."

"Here's another fact for you. I'm starting to believe you're a closet romantic."


	25. Points to Ponder

**POINTS TO PONDER**

 **AN: A little cliche perhaps, but Paige strikes me as a shopper particularly for shoes. In 'Keep it in Check Mate' she said she spent $200 for her shoes. I've never spent that much on a pair of shoes in my life. And I can't resist thinking about how Walter will view regular boyfriend stuff. He's gonna be so lost. I love it!**

 **This one is rated 'T' for a bit of suggestive playfulness on Paige's part.**

 **xOxOxOxOxOxOx**

Once again he realized how much a genius with a 197 IQ still needed to learn about normal women. For instance, the circumstances that brought him to his current situation were wholly incomprehensible. He'd been trying to make sense of them for the last twenty minutes. He came up with nothing.

Walter O'Brien sat on a rickety, uncomfortable bench outside yet another shoe store pondering his latest unfathomable relationship dilemma. There had been many inexplicable happenings in the course of his time as Paige's boyfriend. This one was simply the latest.

Looking back he should have known something was up based on Ralph's reaction. It was an ordinary Saturday afternoon and he'd casually mentioned he needed to go by an electronics store for some components for a project he had going. He'd asked the boy genius if he wanted to go too. At first, Ralph agreed saying he could use a new infrared sensor for his robot's remote control he was trying to repair. But when Paige said she needed to do some shoe shopping and would like to ride along, the boy quickly backed out saying he had homework he needed to work on instead.

When Walter called, "See you soon," as he and Paige walked out the door, Ralph had snorted derisively.

At the time, Walter had been a bit puzzled, but dismissed it.

His own errand took less than four minutes. He found the items he needed including Ralph's sensor, took them to the register and paid for them. Done.

In the two hours and forty-nine minutes since then, they had been to no less than twelve stores and had bought everything _but_ shoes. He feared his own shoes would need to be replaced after walking into every store in the greater LA area. He never knew there were so many 'adorable' trinkets and baubles and accessories, and each one needed to be lifted and inspected before being returned to the exact location where it was found. He didn't understand the purpose for any of the items much less the examination of them. After a good while of these repeated actions, he opted for sitting outside the stores acting as her coat rack while Paige went inside to shop. To pass the time, he played instructional You Tube videos on his phone until the battery died. Since then, he'd been considering the strange shopping experience.

At one point a burly, bald, leather-clad man with tattoo sleeves perched on the bench beside him. Not only was Walter made uncomfortable by the man's forced proximity, the bench wasn't made to accommodate their combined weight and he was afraid it might collapse under the stress of the two men and the numerous shopping bags in their laps.

"You here with your ol' lady?" The man growled in Walter's direction, his expression rather glum.

Trying to scoot toward the opposite end of the seat, but sliding toward the middle again due to the slant caused by the other man's mass, he answered in a tight voice, "I'm here with my girlfriend, yes. How did you know?"

"Your purse doesn't match your outfit," the man answered with a sarcastic glare, adjusting the hefty weight of his own neon pink and zebra-striped handbag and various parcels in his lap. "What're you in for?"

"I'm sorry? I don't understand. In for?"

"Yeah, man. Only two reasons a guy finds himself in our predicament. You either did something to make her mad, or you're trying to win points. Why the hell else would you be here? Me? I'm in it deep."

"I confess I've been sitting here trying to figure it out for a while. At least since my phone died. So, you say it may be because I did something wrong? I hadn't thought about that possibility, but I find I often do wrong things without knowing. So I guess punishment is entirely feasible."

It was at that moment the biker's wife exited the shop. The big man heaved himself up to a standing position and switched all the bags to one arm. He slapped Walter on the back nearly knocking him off the bench, and threw, "Hang in there!" over his shoulder as he lumbered off after the obviously miffed lady leaving Walter to wonder what he might have done to upset Paige.

In spite of the biker's words, he knew all females weren't inclined to drag their significant others around all afternoon 'shopping' while actually buying very little in proportion to what they looked over. For instance, he knew Happy wouldn't subject Toby to this treatment unless she was at a car or motorcycle expo. And once Megan had immigrated to the United States with him, she was no longer able stand or walk for long periods of time. She had done most of her personal shopping online or had Walter pick up specific items she needed. It was certainly a lot more efficient that way. He just couldn't fathom the need to spend hours doing…whatever this was. It reinforced the idea he must be in trouble for some reason.

Another half hour later, after Paige had bought herself no less than three pairs of shoes (Walter only owned a _total_ of three pairs!) one to go with the 'cutest' sundress she found on sale and the 'perfect' earrings to match, and various other perfumes and lip colors and gewgaws, the couple was finally in the car headed home.

He turned to the love of his life and asked worriedly, "Did I do something wrong?"

Paige looked at him, obviously puzzled. "No. Why do you ask?"

"The man sitting beside me earlier told me there are only two reasons to end up shopping and holding all your girlfriend's stuff for her. He suggested it might be because I'm in trouble for something. Since I still sometimes kind of suck at 'romantic boyfriend stuff', I thought I may have done something to upset you I was unaware of."

"Really? Is that what he said?" She burst into giggles. "You are too cute, Walter O'Brien. No, you haven't done anything wrong. Today. Yet. Maybe I just like spending time with you doing anything at all." She leaned over the console, pressed a kiss to his cheek and laid one hand on his thigh. She snuggled closely leaning her cheek on his shoulder effectively distracting him from his previous thoughts.

A little later she whispered in his ear, "What was the other reason?" Then she softly bit his earlobe.

Having a hard enough time concentrating on driving while Paige was fondling his leg and breathing in his ear, he couldn't come up with an answer at first. "Hmmm?" He hummed in the form of a question.

Her hand stroked up a bit farther teasing close to dangerous territory. His eyes nearly crossed and he stopped a little bit too short at a red light. "Your friend said there were two reasons you could've found yourself shopping with me," She purred and drew her tongue softly around the outside of his ear.

Walter shivered and his words came out a little squeaky. "Uh…It-it could be…for-for, um, earning p-points."

He felt Paige smile against his neck. "Earning points, huh?" She sucked lightly on the area under his earlobe and her fingertips brushed ever closer torturing him in the best possible way.

He gasped through clenched teeth just as the car behind him honked. The light had turned green several seconds before. As he cautiously inched the car forward, she continued, "You've been very sweet and patient. I think you've racked up quite a few points today. The garage is between here and home, care to stop and redeem them?"

Then and there Walter determined shopping was a phenomenal way to spend a Saturday afternoon with Paige. He filed that information away for further use as he sped toward the garage.


	26. Damn Lucky

**DAMN LUCKY**

 **AN: I'm working on Home Fires, but it's pretty dark so I needed a little fluff in my life and this plot bunny came to me when I was rewatching 'Charades'. It's been hopping around annoying me, so here you go. This is an AU future story. I borrowed Ivy from my earlier chapters. I had a 'magpie' talkative kid who talked in sentences before she was walking, so I obviously would love to see what Walter would do if he had the same kind of precocious child.**

 **Rated K plus for the *gasp* swear word in the title.**

"Are you _listening_?"

"Mm Hmm." Came the distracted reply.

"Dad-dee!" The indignant little girl stopped in her tracks and tugged on her father's hand.

Walter immediately halted and looked down at his pouting daughter. "I'm sorry, my little essential component, but we're in a bit of a hurry right now."

Ivy was used to her daddy's absurd nicknames, so that didn't faze her in the slightest. However she'd remembered lots of very important things she'd been waiting to tell him _all_ _day_ and since he'd picked her up from the sitter, he hadn't been attending at all. "Mommy says it's rude to ignore someone when they're talking to you." She pulled her little hand out of Walter's and crossed her arms tightly.

Ivy's expression mirrored her mother's so much when she was irritated that Walter had to bite his lip to keep from smiling. The trouble was, his little girl never stopped talking. Unless she was sick, she jabbered all day from the minute she woke up until she fell asleep at night. She talked so much it was sometimes automatic to tune her out. He crouched down so he was eye level with her. "Mommy also says we should accept and forgive people when they apologize."

Instantly, the dark clouds lifted and she brightened. "Okay." Walter stood and took her hand in his again. He slowed his gait some and the two of them proceeded toward his car without further incident. He tried his best to focus at least half an ear on her chatter.

Ivy was skipping along beside him and swinging his hand. She piped up and asked him merrily, "Uncle Toby says you only get math jokes. Is that right? Sometimes Uncle Toby gets stuff like that mixed up."

"On purpose," Walter muttered under his breath. He nodded and answered out loud, "I do understand other forms of humor. But, yes, I sometimes find math humor entertaining."

"Good. Why is six afraid of seven?" Ivy snickered behind her free hand.

Her father rolled his eyes, a grin tugging at the corners of his mouth. "I don't know. Why?"

"Because seven eight nine! Get it? Not the e-i-g-h-t kind of 8. Like A-T-E!" His daughter burst into delighted giggles.

"Yes. I caught that. Very clever." Walter chuckled a little, more because Ivy was so cute than because her joke was actually funny. "I have one for you now. Did you know there are three kinds of people in the world?" When she shook her head, he continued, "Those that can count. And those that can't." He winked at her, dark eyes twinkling.

Ivy frowned for a minute, then the light went on and she laughed. "Oh, I get it! You're _so_ silly! I'm going to tell Uncle Sly that one, okay?"

She kept up an endless stream of words as she clambered into her car booster seat, as Walter made sure she was buckled in securely, as he dropped her garish, blindingly hot pink My Little Pony backpack beside her and even after he shut the door. Her voice was muffled for a few seconds while he walked around and opened the driver's door.

When she noticed which direction the car was heading, Ivy interrupted herself in the middle of her anecdote about a fuzzy stuffed unicorn someone brought for show and tell including an explanation of how ridiculous it was to believe in mythical creatures. "Are we going to the garage, Daddy?"

"Yes. We have some things to do before we go home." Walter was proud he was able to formulate an answer without spoiling the surprise or lying. He might not be the perfect parent, but he always felt he shouldn't lie to his kids if he didn't want them to lie either.

Walter watched in the rear seat viewing mirror as Ivy's eyes went round. She began to almost hop with excitement. Good thing she was restrained or she might have gone into orbit. He should have known she would figure it out. He felt a sudden strong rush of affection. But he shook his head and cringed a bit as her voice went up in pitch at least two octaves.

She clapped her hands and practically squealed, "OOOOooo! It's the twins' party today isn't it?! Yay! Did you and Auntie Happy make the gigantic slip and slide like you said? Oh! Oh! OH! And did you get that dragon bounce house like they wanted?"

He wasn't about to point out the irony of a dragon being just the type of mythical beast she was calling ridiculous moments before. Instead he answered over her animated gushing, "Yes, yes and yes. To all of the above."

As the car was pulling into the parking area, Ivy was already unbuckling herself in her eagerness. Walter had to sternly remind her to stay seated and not to open the door until the car was completely stopped. The nanosecond it was, the little girl was out and running full speed toward the garage entry like a small meteor. It was absolutely no use to scold her since she probably broke the sound barrier and she wouldn't have heard a word he said anyway.

At several points during the next three hours, Walter found himself marveling at the changes in his life as his daughter, the Quinn-Curtis twins and assorted other mostly unfamiliar children first forced him to jump inside an inflatable dragon then made him run full tilt, throw himself down and slide on a heavy tarp liberally coated with baby shampoo and water. He had never done these things before even when he _was_ a child. And he'd never imagined the garage roof being used for such a purpose. But here all the geniuses and Cabe and Paige were, the entire team acting like overgrown kids. Even more inexplicable still, laughing their heads off at each other and at their loss of dignity not to mention the lack of maturity all around. And there was Paige, his stunning wife, discreetly taking pictures and video with her phone when she wasn't sliding or bouncing herself.

Some time later, Walter was slumped in the chair by the front door, while Toby was seated beside him on the corner of the red couch tending to yet another burn on his forearm. He got this one manning the grill. All of the adults sported face paint just like the kids they'd ushered out the door minutes earlier.

Ralph, now a lanky nineteen year-old, flopped down beside Toby on the sofa and gave an exaggerated sigh. "There's a big problem with birthday parties for genius kids," the young man, his face painted like a rabbit, groused.

Toby the tiger looked over his shoulder and raised one black and orange eyebrow. "Only one?"

The boy scoffed, "I get your point. But when I watched the video on You Tube about how to make animals out of balloons, I didn't think anyone would be asking for a squid or a platypus. I must have ruined a hundred balloons. It's a good thing I don't have a latex allergy! Couldn't anyone ask for something normal like a dog or a sword?"

"Well, get a load of this guy?" Toby jerked a thumb in Walter's direction. "I'm Toby the Tiger. I'm grrrrrreat! And Ralphie here is obviously a rabbit. But what the hell are you supposed to be, 197?"

"Ivy insisted on everyone being alliterate. It was either this or a walrus. I'm supposed to be a wallaby? But I'm not sure our resident artists, aka Cabe and Allie, know what one looks like," he answered tiredly, the whiskers beside his nose were smeared slightly and looked to be drooping around his mouth.

The three of them started giggling, everything made irrationally funny by fatigue.

Walter shook his head wearily. "The garage is a wreck. It took two days to decorate and it'll take us a week to get it all cleared up. But it only took a dozen children all of three hours to decimate everything."

"And I'm running on no sleep as it is. Toddlers make horrible bedfellows. Ever since we put little 'Grumpy Pie' in her big girl bed, she gets up in the night and crawls in with us. And somehow she always ends up sideways between us while Happy and I are hanging off the edges on opposite sides. We look like a goal post. On a good night she doesn't wet the bed. Last night wasn't a good night," Toby commiserated. All three of the Quinn-Curtis children had Seven Dwarf themed nicknames since Mom and Dad were aptly called Happy and Doc.

"I found a ham and cheese sandwich closed in my laptop yesterday. When I asked Ivy about it, she said she wanted to see how long it would take to make a Panini with just the heat from a computer," Ralph griped.

"There. You're all set. I'm gonna write you a script for antibiotics too," Toby said, putting the finishing touches on the bandage covering Walter's arm. Then he added for fun, "Why am I doing that, Ralph?"

The young man answered with a mocking smirk, "Because burns cover more surface area than cuts, so they're more easily infected? I think we've played this game before. I'm a genius. I remember stuff."

"A plus, again. I just can't get anything past you, can I?"

Toby and Walter both laughed. "First we went from fixing routers to jumping out of burning planes and action hero stuff. Now we're all about potty training and birthday parties? How did _that_ happen?" Toby asked.

"According to Cabe, whose face is currently painted to resemble a camel, we're just 'damn lucky'," Walter replied. And it set the three of them off laughing again.

But underneath all the feigned chagrin, Walter couldn't help but agree with Cabe the camel's assessment. Maybe he believed in luck after all.


	27. Deciphering Walter

**DECIPHERING WALTER**

 **AN: I'm working on Home Fires, don't worry. This story idea kept me up last night thinking though. I've been curious about this POV for a while because it was hard for me to understand. Tell me if you think I got it right.**

The pregnancy was absolutely normal in every way. The labor was average in length and intensity with no complications or trauma.

But the second the nurse laid him in her arms, she knew her son was different. They'd swaddled him and covered his little head after they'd cleaned him up. Everything was hidden from view, all but his tiny face. His eyes looked up into hers trying so hard to bring her into focus. It sure felt like he was detached and curious and concentrating, as if he was studying her.

Her husband dismissed the notion. Bursting with pride he was, to have a son, wanting to name the boy after his own father.

Over the next several months, however, Walter's father began to notice the differences too.

The boy rolled over, sat up, crawled and walked right on schedule. But he rarely smiled or laughed. He didn't even cry that often unless he needed something and he never fussed or just wanted to be held or rocked. It was hard to interact with him because he really didn't seem to want or need attention.

It didn't stop his big sister from fussing over him as if that little boy was all hers. She wasn't quite three yet, but she adored her baby brother the minute she saw him. All his rare smiles, he saved for her.

By contrast, Megan had always been so easy to love. Gregarious and social and happy from the very beginning, old folks to little children, everyone adored her. Even her odd baby brother appeared to have a soft spot for her.

But Walter? Well he was just…difficult. And Louise worried a lot at the start.

His eyes seemed to absorb every detail around him, but he didn't talk until he was almost four. No babbling, no cooing, nothing. It didn't seem to bother his sister at all. When she was with him, she spoke for the both of them.

But the O'Briens thought he might be hearing impaired, so they had him tested. His hearing was fine.

So Sean decided Walter was merely being stubborn and that was the beginning of the tension between the two males in the family. The boy's father insisted he learn to ask for what he wanted. Walter held out until he was three; nearly four. No pointing and grunting or making unintelligible noises for him though. The first words out of his mouth were perfect in elocution and formed a complete sentence.

Louise would never forget it. She'd been admonishing him to use his fork because it was impolite to eat with his hands. And Walter shocked everyone at the table when he calmly replied, "Using a fork is an inefficient way to eat."

Try writing that in a baby book on the line to record the first words.

His sister was delighted and burst into giggles causing the boy to grin widely around the mouthful of shepherd's pie he'd just stuffed in with his fingers. His father was not amused and ordered him to 'Use the damn fork!'

But it was Megan who was finally able to convince him to always use his utensils. She explained to him it would help with coordination. He agreed he needed to work on developing his fine motor skills and that was the end of it. She could always communicate with him in a way he would accept.

Louise didn't know what to do with a child who didn't seem to need her affection or attention. Even when he was ill, which wasn't often, he didn't want her to touch him. He would shrink away from any contact she initiated.

She tried to understand him in the early years, but how do you relate to a boy who doesn't get excited about Christmas, never showing the least amount of gratitude for the gifts or the feasting or the visitors. One who resolutely refused to believe in Father Christmas.

Who ever heard of a kid who never played with toys and disliked most programs on the telly or movies? One who would rather read an instruction manual for the tractor or the old, dusty encyclopedias he found in a box in the attic than Dr. Seuss. So much for bedtime stories.

Or someone who asks so many questions in his catechism class, the bishop tells his mother not to bring him back.

And school. Heaven help her. Walter was miserable at school and made everyone around him miserable too. He didn't make one friend. He was ostracized and bullied by teachers and peers alike. The first few years, he spent more time in the headmaster's office than in his classroom.

His teachers thought he had everything from developmental delays to behavior disorders because he refused to participate in class and his mind was often wandering off in outer space. They had him tested for ADD, for OCD and many other rather ominous sounding mental maladies trying to find a classification for her eight year-old. Until somewhere along the line someone finally had the bright idea to test his IQ. Initially it was intended to show if he belonged in Special Ed classes. Walter shocked everybody when he scored a solid 197.

Louise was hopeful for a while after they found out he was actually a genius, but he was so prickly and strange for a child. And he had all these wild, unfathomable ideas and was forever taking things apart to see what made them run. She soon despaired of ever understanding him. She still loved him, but she felt herself drawing away from him emotionally.

After his arrest when he was eleven, there were a few days she was ashamed to find herself wishing they hadn't had him. He was so troublesome and he and Sean never agreed on anything. There was always strife in the house.

Sadly, she was almost relieved when Walter immigrated to the United States. It broke her heart when he took Megan with him, but she knew her daughter would get better care in America. Walter could be counted on to see to his sister. Of that she was convinced. Megan was the only person on the planet he seemed to care about. He'd been friends with an FBI agent for awhile and his mother was grateful he seemed to connect with another person no matter the gap in age. However they'd had a falling out when Walter was sixteen and her son had cut all ties after that. Louise never knew what caused the rift.

For many years, Sean and Louise kept up with Walter through Megan and only got the very occasional email directly from him. He was never one for sentiment and many birthdays and Christmases went by with not a word from him.

On the awful day they lost their daughter, they heard Megan's words to Walter and Louise wished so hard they were true. It did her broken heart good, even though it was awkward, to see Walter take Paige's hand when he told his story about his sister. But the gestures she and Sean made after that were still more often rebuffed than not. They also heard from Sylvester a few months later that Paige, who she prayed was the answer to solving the mystery that was her son, started dating someone else instead.

Things had gotten some better after Megan's Pattern Day ceremony three years past. There had been a few overtures and they'd heard from him more often afterwards at least.

A very large part of her still couldn't reconcile what she was seeing today with the son she'd always known.

She'd stepped out on the porch in the early afternoon to bring Sean his medicine. He'd been hurt in a farming accident a few weeks ago. After his surgery, Sylvester and Walter had come to help with the farm for a few days until her husband was back in full fighting form.

As she gazed out over the field, she spied her stolid son leaning his back against a tree obviously taking a break from the chores. His very beautiful and very pregnant wife was sitting between his splayed knees, her back resting against his chest. Walter had one hand on her swollen belly. Apparently the baby was awake and doing acrobatics, because every so often, she would look over her shoulder at him and the two of them would beam at one another or exchange a soft, awestruck laugh or a gentle kiss.

Their teenaged boy Ralph was riding around the pasture on the go cart her son built out of spare lawn mower parts when he was twelve. The two of them unearthed it from the barn, cleaned it up and had been tinkering with it. And Walter, her quiet, unemotional child had been all but gushing at dinner the previous evening, spouting a bunch of nonsense about how Ralph had the idea to reverse the manifold and adjust the choke and 'wasn't he the most brilliant boy that ever lived' because now the blessed thing was faster than a race car. She and Sean had looked at each other and shaken their heads. Who was this man at their table? What happened to her stoic, robotic son who never got worked up about anything?

And now to see him cuddled up and obviously very much in love with the woman in his arms? Louise realized she'd never seen Walter truly happy before. Her heart filled up and simply overflowed.

Sean followed her gaze, and grinning, said, "Who'da thought in a million years?"

It was in that instant Louise O'Brien swore to love her daughter-in-law with all her power for the rest of her days. She was so very thankful Paige's love was the key to unlocking her indecipherable son.


	28. A Ralph by Any Other Name

A Ralph by Any Other Name

The butterflies in his stomach were developing claws and teeth. And maybe horns. Or at least that's what it felt like when his innards were twisting so painfully.

Why had he requested pizza for dinner? Usually one of his favorites, it was now threatening to make a reappearance and he was sure it would rendered very unappetizing in the process.

Fourteen year old Ralph sat on the edge of his bed clutching his phone in one hand while attempting to calm the nausea and nervous jumping by rubbing his middle with the other. He rehearsed this conversation in his head several dozen times and quickly ran through the odds of a favorable outcome. Neither the rehearsals nor the odds nor any amount of logic did anything to alleviate his anxiety. There were way too many variations and variables to make an accurate assessment.

The subject first came up at dinner twelve days before. Prior to that it had always been an idea in the back of his mind. He might have written and typed it once or twice or a couple hundred times over the last five years to test it out and see if it looked right. But he'd never voiced the idea aloud to anyone or considered the actual logistics of making it a reality.

Before the discussion at dinner twelve days ago, Ralph and Walter had spent weeks researching and found the perfect restaurant advertizing gorgeous views of the Pacific Ocean. Pouring over tide charts they'd made reservations for an evening when the tide would be coming in right at sunset, figuring the natural beauty would be at its dramatic peak at that time. Walter rented tuxedos for the both of them. They ordered an assortment of all of his mom's favorite flowers for the table. Then the two of them covertly picked out a ring they both felt suited her. After that, the pair spent days making and editing a comprehensive list of all the reasons why it would be advantageous for them to legally become a family.

For those weeks, it was Ralph who had to prop Walter up, constantly reminding the older genius that in actuality his mom thought weird was great, evidenced by the fact she loved her boyfriend very much and generally reassuring him she would gladly say 'yes'.

And she did. Immediately, of course.

In fact she'd been so delighted, she agreed before either of them needed to present even one argument in favor. There was absolutely no need to convince or debate. His beaming mother, eyes shining, said yes before Walter could get all the words of his initial proposal out. And the three of them spent the rest of the meal making plans as they celebrated with flutes of sparkling white grape juice for the men and champagne for his mom. All of them decided they wanted it to happen sooner rather than later.

 _That's_ precisely when the subject first came up.

It wasn't that Ralph disliked the name Dineen. It was his grandmother's name too and it was Irish just like O'Brien. It flowed well with his first and middle names. It was his grandfather's name and his mom gave it to him because she wanted him to carry it on seeing as how her father was gone before Ralph was born.

She understood his reasoning for wanting to become an O'Brien though. She was great about stuff like that. After all, she'd already decided to take Walter's name when they married as well. He knew it was only symbolic, but Ralph wanted that tangible, irrefutable documentation they were finally a family. Without question. One hundred percent related. All three of them. And he would share that last name with any siblings he might have in the future. If his brothers and/or sisters turned out to be normal, it would cut down on confusion for them.

The sappy look his parents exchanged when he presented that reason made him wrinkle his nose, but he was also secretly thrilled their feelings for each other were still so obviously strong.

That left only one major obstacle to him becoming Ralph O'Brien.

His biological father.

There was no rational excuse for his father to object. Dineen wasn't even his last name. From the beginning, Ralph had never been called Baker. It was always Dineen on his birth certificate as if his mother knew from the start Drew's only contribution would be the required DNA. The problem was, that same legally binding document also listed Andrew Charles Baker as his father and his father might not view things rationally. Because in allowing Ralph to change his name, Drew would be giving up any paternal rights. Not that he exercised them on any regular basis.

After reuniting when Ralph was nine, and being a presence in his son's life for a few months, Drew really didn't have a lot of contact with him. Once his father moved to the east coast, his phone calls became sporadic and his visits less frequent amounting to a few days once or sometimes twice a year. Nowadays their relationship was mostly reduced to twenty dollars in a birthday card and fifty in a Christmas card and the requisite awkward thank-you call his mother insisted Ralph should make before he spent the money. The boy heard from his grandmother much more often and she was legally dead and in hiding.

But still. It was unpredictable how Drew would react to his request.

Both his mom and dad… Ralph paused a moment in his thinking to smile. It felt so good to really be able to think of Walter in those terms now that it was almost official and legally binding. It felt stable. Sturdy. Permanent. Something he'd craved ever since he could remember. And he basked in the feeling.

Both of his parents offered to make the phone call for him. They loved him and wanted to spare him the discomfort. But Ralph didn't think Drew would respond as well to either of them.

Even though Walt… _Dad_ was better than he used to be, he still struggled with diplomacy and tact. Plus, there was always obvious tension between the two men from the time they met. And his mom? Well, she tried not to show it most of the time, but he could tell she harbored a little resentment for the years of abandonment and struggle just as Ralph suspected his father still harbored possessive feelings for the family he left.

No. It was up to him.

They also offered to sit with him while he called. He appreciated their support, but the young genius thought he should handle things on his own this once. However, it was nice to know his mom and dad were right down the hall in the living room, probably clutching hands in anticipation of the outcome and feeling every bit as nervous on his behalf.

Hands shaking, Ralph hit the 'send' icon and, half hoping it would go straight to voicemail, he listened to it ring. Once. Twice. Three…

"Hey, Ralph. What's up?"

All of his rehearsed speeches went straight out of his head. Ralph had a sudden wish he'd consulted Toby for coaching on how to manipulate the situation. He swallowed, trying to wet his dry throat. "Are you there?" Drew asked when the pause got too long.

Ralph finally managed to force a tremulous, "H-hey," out before his father got the impression he'd been butt dialed and hung up. "Uh, I need to t-tell you… ask you something…"

OOOOOOOOOO

No one was surprised when Ralph graduated as Valedictorian of his class two years earlier than his peers. It was unanimously agreed the sixteen year old genius' mind was a force to be reckoned with and it was ready to be completely unleashed on the collegiate world. He'd had many very flattering offers from good tech schools all over the country, but in the end he'd decided to stay at Cal Tech to be close to family and friends.

It was unseasonably warm in Southern California and Ralph was beginning to sweat in his black cap and gown from the sun beating down as well as from nerves. His gown was draped with enough cords and ribbons and awards he could have easily toppled forward from the weight. The academic medals were winking the sun's reflection back at the audience as he sat on the stage waiting for his turn to speak.

He'd rehearsed his speech dozens of times. He just hoped the words didn't fly out of his head, as they'd previously done at times when he was nervous, as soon as he stepped up to the podium. Public speaking was never high on his list of favorite things to do. But he wasn't going to picture the audience members in their underwear as Toby suggested. Ralph thought that would actually be more distracting than helpful.

He caught his dad's eye as the principal was talking. Walter's buttons were nigh to bursting with pride. Ralph could see it all over his face. The anxiety fled and calm rushed to take its place, because he knew even if he tripped over his feet and fell off the stage it wouldn't alter the opinions of the people who mattered most.

"And now let's hear a few wise words from our Valedictorian, Ralph O'Brien."

The whole front row seemed to jump to its feet whistling and shouting and generally making asses out of themselves. There was Sylvester, always his biggest fan, clapping and grinning ear to ear, discreetly dabbing at his eyes. Next to him Toby had his hands cupped around his mouth shouting, "Speech! Speech!" until his wife elbowed him in the ribs. Happy was whistling loudly in between grabbing her young sons by their collars to keep them from running to join Ralph on the stage. Cabe was next, yelling, "Way to go, Ralphie!" Allie was smiling indulgently at him while she cheered. Then his mom and dad and baby sister enthusiastically clapping and calling encouragement were next in line. And the last one in the row was Drew who took a break from applauding to give him a sideways smile and a thumbs up.

When the roar died down and people were once again seated, Ralph cleared his throat and began, "You've heard the old adage 'It takes a village to raise a child'? Well, what you just witnessed? Those are my village people…"


	29. Fathers and New Frontiers

FATHERS AND NEW FRONTIERS

 **AN: Only TWO more days! Because I'm completely stoked, I couldn't resist a tad more fluff.**

"Well. If it isn't Walter himself. It's been a minute since we've talked," Sean O'Brien's face appeared on the genius's laptop.

Even though their relationship had improved along with his EQ, Walter still had to take a breath and count to five trying to quell his instant defensive response. It had been ingrained in him from years of resentment and misunderstanding starting from a very young age. Paige would tell him his father didn't mean the statement of fact as criticism. It _had_ been a while since he'd contacted his parents.

Thinking of his girlfriend had the desired calming effect and he was able to respond without a hint of irritation. "Uh, hello. It has been some time. We were stranded on that island for three weeks and since then it's pretty much been back-to-back cases."

There was a beat of awkward silence before Walter added, "So… How is the condensation catcher doing? I wanted to tell you I've got a couple of ideas to improve the overall functionality."

Before his father could answer, Louise's smiling face peeked around the corner of the screen. Sean looked at his wife indulgently before budging over so she could talk too. "Ah! There's my boy!" She said, "And how are you faring after that ordeal on the island? I bet you're really glad to get back to the civilized world again."

"Oh, I'm fine, thanks. And yes, I'm very glad to be back."

His father chuckled and said, "You've probably never appreciated indoor plumbing more…"

His mother playfully swatted her husband's shoulder before saying to her son, "We heard from a little bird you are seeing that pretty Paige. Is it true?" Louise was positively beaming as she asked in a conspiratory whisper.

Walter sighed. Well, crap. He'd already lost control of this conversation not even three minutes in. "Yes. And was that little bird actually my big mouthed brother Sly by chance?"

"Such a lovely boy. And yes, it was Sylvester. He calls us every week to keep us caught up on everything important going on in that garage of yours," his mother replied.

"Paige? Wasn't she dating that Tim fella when she was here before?" Sean asked, looking confused.

The younger man bit his lip counting to ten this time before saying, "They broke up several months ago, but yes, she was."

His father looked at him sourly with one eyebrow raised. "She's not the kind to go around with everyone at work is she?"

Walter ground his teeth and hid his clenched fists in his lap under his desk before gritting out in a tight voice, "No, Dad. It's not like that."

Louise frowned sidelong at her husband before saying, "Of course she isn't. Don't worry with his nonsense, Walter. He doesn't mean anything by it." She paused for a second before continuing, looking delighted, like Christmas arrived early for her, "So tell me. Is it serious with you two?"

"I don't know what you mean, Mother." He really wanted to slam his computer shut and pretend he'd never contacted his parents.

"Ohhh. Don't be shy about it, now. Do you see yourself with her for a long time, maybe?" She winked at him.

"About that condensation catcher, Dad…" The genius pinched the bridge of his nose.

"Ah, no you don't, boy-o. Answer your mum. There's a good lad. We just want to see you happy, don't you know." Sean was smirking at him.

Walter wanted to bang his head on the desk. "I'm very happy, thank you. And I would like nothing more than to see this become a…permanent situation. As for Paige, I don't know. We haven't discussed it. Yet."

Louise clapped her hands together under her chin, her expression ecstatic. "And she has that sweet little boy, doesn't she? What's his name again?"

The younger man shook his head as he barely stopped himself from rolling his eyes. The privacy ship had apparently sailed, so he replied, "His name is Ralph. He's not so little any more. He's closer to thirteen than twelve now. And smarter than me on my best day." In spite of himself, Walter's face relaxed into a proud smile at the thought of Ralph.

"Oh, would you look at that, Sean? Our son is in love and he loves that boy too. What a perfect little ready-made family you have there. We're ever so pleased for you."

Walter felt the heat creeping up his face. He had never discussed things like this with his parents. Not once. But in some ways it felt… right. He hoped it was appropriate when he added, "It's still early stages. Honestly, though, I'm a little… scared to mess things up with her. With him. This is all new territory for me."

To his surprise, it was his father who gave an encouraging answer. "I guarantee you will mess up. I know all about that. I messed up plenty, heaven knows. But if it's the real thing, you will forgive each other and work it out together. Take it from someone who knows, don't let the problems fester. Talk to her. Talk to him. Ask questions. The only way to know how to get better is to ask. I had trouble admitting I was wrong and asking for help. Because of that, you and I didn't talk for a lot of years. I regret that."

Walter was too astonished to respond and he was shocked to feel tears prickling his eyes. He was finally able to choke out, "Me too," around the lump in his throat.

Luckily, before things could get too weird, Louise piped up, her expression all eager hopefulness, "Since Paige already has that one little boy, do you think she'll eventually be wanting to try for a baby girl? A granddaughter would be such a blessing."

Oh, boy.

 **AN2: I tried to make Sean and Louise as Irish as possible as a completely American idiot can. I hope it wasn't too much.**


	30. Empty Nest Syndrome

EMPTY NEST SYNDROME

 **AN: I'm in a writing frenzy this week. I think it's excitement over the return of my favorite show! :-D Happy Scorp Monday!**

Paige woke with a start, shivering even under the blankets. She automatically reached across to the opposite side of the bed.

He wasn't there. The covers were cool. Without Walter's warmth next to her, she'd gotten too chilly.

It wasn't all that unusual for her genius husband to get up and prowl during the night. He didn't typically require as much sleep as most people and if he was unable to shut down enough to drift off, he would often get up and work on a project or do some reading until he began to feel drowsy.

It wasn't like him to get up during the night once he was sleeping soundly though. But he'd been more restless than she'd ever seen him the last couple of nights. Understandable as she'd had her own issues too.

Sighing, she sat up and swung her legs over the edge of the bed shuffling her feet around looking for her slippers. It was best to go search him out to see if she could get him to open up about what was on his mind. He would never relax otherwise and neither of them would get any sleep.

She listened briefly, but didn't hear him in the master bathroom and there was no light shining under the door.

Paige found her robe draped over the chair by the bed and pulled it on, rubbing her arms up and down trying to get warm as she padded out the bedroom door into the hallway which was dimly illuminated by a night light. Ralph's bathroom door was open and the interior of the room was dark, so Walter wasn't in there either.

She didn't see a light on in the living room. Thinking he might have fallen asleep on the couch, she peered over the back to check. Nope. No Walter. And he wasn't in the kitchen or dining area either.

Did he leave the condo? Where would he go at three AM? But, no, by the porch light shining through the big picture window, she could make out his car keys on the hook by the front door.

Would he have gone for a walk? Surely he wouldn't have done that without telling her, would he?

She was about to go back to the bedroom to get her phone off the nightstand when something occurred to her.

Paige stepped into Ralph's bedroom. Outlined by the moonlight pouring in, she saw Walter's silhouette sitting on the end of their son's bed, staring at his hands in his lap.

"There you are," she said, a smile in her voice.

He turned toward her, but she couldn't see his expression when he answered quietly. "Yes. I'm here. Sorry if I woke you."

"It's okay."

Silence fell as she walked over and sat next to him. She took his hand and waited, knowing the words would come when he was ready.

"Don't you think he's a little young? He's only fifteen." He finally asked.

"Walter. We've had this discussion before. If I remember right, you were on the other side of the argument back in May. You were all for this." Paige said with what she hoped was a soothing tone.

"I know, but I've had some time to rethink things. I may have been too quick to dismiss your arguments back then. Maybe we should go get him."

"We agreed to give it some time, didn't we? It's only six weeks and he's getting college credit for this. You're the one who kept gushing about what a great opportunity NASA summer science camp is for him. You said it was a privilege to be invited."

"I did _not_ gush. And I know all that, but… It's half way across the country. What if something happens and we're unable to get to him?" He was squeezing her hand now.

"Okay, Mr. Logic. Run the odds. Isn't that what you did when I said that very same thing to you at the end of the school year? And what did you tell me?" Paige tipped her head to rest against his shoulder.

"You're right. I did run the odds and I know logically he's safe and we have private planes and helicopters at our disposal if we needed to get to him. But I've only had brief communication with him twice since he left."

She sat up straight again. "Wait. What? He wasn't supposed to take any personal electronic devices with him. It's against the rules."

"We might have hidden a phone inside a camera. For-for emergency purposes, you know." Walter swallowed and looked up cautiously as if expecting a scolding.

Slipping her fingers out of his, she crossed her arms and adopted a mock severe tone when in truth her heart was melting from his concern. "You? Breaking the rules? Bucking authority? And teaching my son to do the same? I can't believe it."

"I know. I know. It's stupid." The quiet fell again. Walter ran agitated fingers through his hair making it stand on end. Then he mumbled almost to himself. "I woke up wanting to tell him about an idea I had, and… I miss him."

Paige didn't think it was possible to fall in love all over again. But in that moment, she absolutely did. She leaned against her precious genius again and in a reassuring voice, she said, "We're going to make it. It's only five more weeks and he'll be home."

"Five weeks, two days…" Walter glanced at the bedside clock, "eighteen hours and fifty-two minutes." He finished glumly.

She hid her smile against his arm and whispered, "I love you."

He brightened slightly at that statement of fact and returned, "I love you, too."

Then he sighed as muttered, "But what are we going to do it he wants to go away to college?"


End file.
